


Heart at War

by 7thwave



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-05-04 14:09:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 63,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14594697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7thwave/pseuds/7thwave
Summary: Post Season 7. Jaime arrives at Winterfell. This is an exploration of Jaime's struggle with his decision, with his past and present, and most importantly, with his future...IF he had the time to do so. (I expect that there won't be a lot of time once he arrives in the TV series.) This story is mainly about exploring Jaime's hidden, inner turmoil and Brienne's reaction to it. Other characters will pop in and out once in a while but they are on the periphery.I have tried to stay as loyal as I could to all the character's personalities. That was my main goal!I'm going to try to post once a week if I see there's enough interest.It's my first real crack at writing fiction so I hope you enjoy it!





	1. Chapter 1

It was near twilight and from her post on the East Gate Brienne watched a lone rider emerging from the woods beyond. The wind had picked up and the snow was driving icy pellets into her face and eyes but she could still see a dark hooded figure on horseback heading towards Winterfell.

“Rider!”, she heard a call from below. She motioned for a Stark guard to take her place as she descended the tower steps to join the guards at the gate. _What now? Another one of the townspeople, ill-prepared for winter and wanting shelter, no doubt,_ she thought. Their party had been back from the Capital for a week now and every day they would find stragglers from Winter Town and beyond at the East Gate, pleading for food and a warm place to sleep, even it was in the stables or sept. They allowed them sanctuary on the condition they would lend their swords to the battle, if necessary.

She heard voices arguing as she approached the heavy wooden doors.

Trouble.

She pulled open the gate a crack and freed Oathkeeper from its sheath, ready to do battle if need be. Winterfell needed no new threats.

The guards had surrounded the rider and not a few swords had already been drawn. Their voices rising, she pushed through the crowd.

Dressed in commoners garb, a woolen cloak and a miserable looking fur, he was still unmistakable. She knew this rider.

“Ser Jaime!”, she looked beyond him to the tree line, expecting to see the Lannister army approaching from behind, but all she saw was empty fields, trees and snow.

“Brienne …”, Jaime was relieved to see her. He was also cold, ragged and tired but it didn’t stop him from giving the guards a haughty look. A stubbled face gave away that he’d been on the Kings road for at least a week or more.

 _Why didn’t he send a raven?_ , she thought. Something was terribly wrong. Ser Jaime of House Lannister did not ride the King’s Road alone.

Brienne turned to the guards and barked an order. “Back to the gate! Ser Jaime and the Lannisters have sworn a truce. He is here for us.” They grudgingly turned back to the castle walls, spitting on the ground and grumbling, “Curses to all fucking Lannisters!”, but resumed their positions.

Turning back, she put Oathkeeper away and helped him off his horse. He must have been riding steadily since early morning because he winced when he hit the ground. “What are you doing here? Alone?”, she said in a lowered but urgent voice. “We expected you days ago and sent a raven to Kings Landing with no reply. Where are your armies?”

“Brienne...” he started again, and now she saw the hesitancy in his eyes, “The Lannister armies aren’t coming north. Eurion Greyjoy has sailed for Essos to accompany the Golden Company back to Westeros. Cersei means to take back all southern lands while you hold the North.” He felt weak and defeated and he didn’t know if he had ever felt this cold. Inns had been too risky so when he had a chance, he had snuck into stables long after the lights in the inns had gone dark. It’s there he managed to steal one grimy fur for himself and a woollen blanket for his horse. Most nights he had slept sheltered by rocks and trees on the cold ground while the wolves howled endlessly through the night. The cold had sunk into this bones. The long night was truly here.

Silence fell and Jaime’s heart sank at the look of disappointment and betrayal on Brienne’s face.

“And how is it that _you’re_ here?” The question was only a whisper.

Jaime gave her a bitter smile, “Don’t you remember? Fuck loyalty? I made a vow to ride north and fight with you. And here I am.”  He flung his arms wide to indicate a grand entrance but he winced when the cold air hit him and grimacing, he wrapped his wool cloak around him again.

Silence again as her eyes held his. “She won’t like that. Your life will be in danger. You took your chances riding on the King’s Road.”

“Yes. I’m now a traitor to my family and to the crown.” The look of hurt was clearly written on his face. “I need to speak to my brother.”

“Of course. I’ll take you to him.” She grabbed the reins of his horse and turned to lead him into the castle, but he put his hand on her arm to stop her.

“I tried, Brienne. I am … sorry.” Disappointment was thick in his voice and his eyes pleaded with her to understand, but she already did.

“Don’t apologize for your sister. She is the traitor. Not you.” That stung. Brienne had never spoken ill of Cersei but he knew she despised her anyway. How could she not? Jaime had wanted to believe that Cersei had finally seen beyond her own ambition and revenge, but she was Tywin’s daughter to the end. Possibly to the end of them all.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ser Jaime.” Brienne’s smile was sincere but he could see the fear in her eyes. “The wall has fallen. We don’t have much time.”

 

********

 

Tyrion flung open his door at Brienne’s insistent knocking, about to chastise her at disturbing his furious writing. Ravens had been flying back and forth through the North ever since they received word of the wall. Northern armies were being dispatched and preparations were well underway. War was upon them.

His voice died in his throat at the sight of his brother.

“What has she done now?”, Tyrion said in a low voice.  He knew that look on Jaime’s face. There was no need for pleasantries.

“You knew she wouldn’t send our armies, didn’t you? What did she tell you?” Tyrion didn’t know if that was an accusation or an acknowledgement that Tyrion might just know their sweet sister better than even Jaime did.

“I didn’t know. But I should have.” He opened the door wide to let them in and walked back to his desk where he poured himself a glass of wine and offered one to Jaime and Brienne. Brienne declined but Jaime accepted it and downed it in two swallows, hoping it would warm him. “She told me exactly what she told Lord Jon and the Queen. I hoped I had finally gotten through to her but I can’t remember the last time she did anything that benefited anyone but herself.”

Jaime warmed his hands by the hearth and turned to his brother. “Tyrion, you need to know...Euron is headed to Essos for the Golden Company. She has the Iron Bank on her side. She means to let the Northern houses die while she gathers strength. Whomever prevails, she’ll meet with our armies but she’s assuming there won’t be many left to fight.” Jaime ran his hands through his hair and paced the room. “I didn’t know. I was preparing our passage North. I honestly thought she saw the threat.” Visibly frustrated he met Brienne’s eyes and saw the worry there, but also the pride she felt for him. Everything she felt was always so plainly written there.

“We should have known.”, Tyrion said again, furious with himself. “I should have known she would try something like this!” He shook his head and turned to face Jaime. “And somehow you’re here, regardless. Has my big brother finally had enough? Do you FINALLY see her?!” Jaime gave him a searing look. _Don’t fuck with me, little brother._

“This is NOT good. This is REALLY not good. Damn her!” Tyrion tipped the rest of his wine, finishing it and slammed it down on the desk. “The Queen needs to know. Follow me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime defends himself against Jon and Daenerys and learns of the full situation in the north.

“Even after seeing the wight for herself, how can she not understand the threat facing us?” Daenerys Targaryen sat calmly at a long wooden table, flanked by King Jon, Sansa and Arya. Ser Davos and Ser Jorah stood to the side along with Varys and what Jaime assumed were her foreign handmaid and bodyguards. He had been unarmed and led into the Great Hall with all eyes on him. A lion in a den of wolves. 

Tyrion stepped beside Jaime as they now faced the new queen and Brienne took her place beside Ser Davos to hear them speak.

“She understands very well. But she’s chosen to let the dead kill off the North while she …  rallies. I tried to convince her otherwise, but when it became clear she had no intention to keep her truce, I left Kings Landing to ride north. Your … grace.” Jaime stumbled on the word. He had tried to work out what to say during his time on the King’s Road but facing Daenerys Targaryen in such circumstances put him at a disadvantage. He honestly didn’t know how to address her. His newly broken loyalties to his house and sister still sat awkwardly in his stomach, turning it into knots. 

“And tell me just how you left King’s Landing alive?” She cut right to the point. She obviously wouldn’t trust him, The Kingslayer. Oathbreaker.

“I honestly don’t know. She…”, It was hard for him to believe it himself. Why should the Dragon Queen? “She called me a traitor and threatened to have me killed. I don’t know  _ why _ she let me go.” 

Tyrion’s head snapped up at his brother’s words. So it had come to this.  _ The golden couple were broken.  _

At the back of the room, Brienne looked down at her feet and fumed, her jaw rigid. 

“She calls you traitor and let’s you walk out of King’s Landing.” Dany’s gaze bore right into him and he returned the look. “And you’re here to…what? Lend your one hand and one sword to fight the Army of the Dead?” 

“It IS a  _ Valyrian _ sword…” Tyrion said quietly, his voice trailing off.

Jaime raised his chin and stared her down coldly. “I promised to fight and I’m here to do exactly that, yes.” Brienne smiled, heart soaring at his declaration. She always knew he was a man of honour and here he was to prove it. If only they would allow him.

“He’s a liar.”, Arya spoke up. “I saw him. At the Twins. Toasting and celebrating with Walder Frey after the Lannisters captured Riverrun.” Jaime’s brow furrowed. He didn’t remember seeing Arya Stark there. Surely he would have recognized her? Shortly thereafter Walder Frey and the entire Frey family had been decimated. Walder Frey had always turned his stomach, never more than when he likened himself to Jaime, Kingslayers both. For an instant he had seen his future. Old, despised and lonely. It had made him want to retch. 

_ But why would Arya be there…? _ A swift realization washed over him.  _ Did Arya Stark lay waste to the entire Frey House?  _ He looked at her with astonishment and not a little respect. They exchanged a look of understanding and his stomach dropped.  _ Well done! _ Arya just smiled back at him coldly, knowingly.

Jaime turned back to Jon and Dany, sighing. “I was merely doing my duty to my house. Need I remind you that except for the Blackfish, Riverrun was taken without a single loss. Edmure Tully and his wife and son live.” 

“My Queen,” Tyrion stepped forward. “My brother has been a lot of things...”, Jaime’s brow raised as Tyrion continued, “...but he is no liar. I believe him. He’s also the Captain of the Queensgu …  _ was _ the Captain of the Queensguard …  and quite a good military strategist. If I’m not mistaken, we could use that right now, don’t you think?”

Dany turned to Jon who raised his eyebrows and looked back at Jaime.

“You’ve never been one to keep your promises before, Lannister, or need I remind you.”, Jon said. “Why now?” 

“I’m doing this for the  _ same _ reasons you are, Snow. Because if I don’t, Westeros will fall and everyone I love will die.” Jaime spat out. “Look, I’m unarmed. I’m surrounded by those who would rather see me dead. I’ve walked into the home of a family MY family tried to destroy. Why would I do that if I didn’t have a damn good reason? If this is some elaborate plot on Cersei’s part, it’s a risky move, wouldn’t you say? Sending her top military leader into a situation that will probably get him killed? I would have most certainly advised against it.”, he said sardonically. Pausing, he looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each person there. “You have your reasons not to trust me and if you want me dead now, well...then...do what you must. But in possibly the worst threat Westeros has ever faced, I’m one more sword, willing to fight. I am with you.” 

Varys leaned near to Davos and whispered, “My little birds had heard things. Unrest in the Red Keep.”  Davos gave him a questioning look but Varys turned back to the exchange.

Dany stood up and walked around the table to face Jaime. Her cold violet eyes bore into him. From her expression, it was clear they had much left to discuss but now was not the right time. His heart was pounding but his gaze didn’t flicker. He had nothing to hide. 

Dany’s eyes coldly flicked away from Jaime’s. “I need to discuss this turn of events with my advisors. Until then, Ser Jaime will not be harmed.” She looked around the room her eyes resting on Arya. 

At the end of the table, Arya’s icy stare never waivered. Jaime Lannister was never a name on her list, but with him conveniently within reach, there was always room for another Lannister. Oaths to their mother be damned.

Sansa had kept quiet throughout the exchange and had only watched Jaime intently. Regardless of what she thought of this new “queen” who had taken up residence in HER home, she agreed with Dany’s hesitancy. He was not to be trusted. She couldn’t believe his allegiance with Cersei could be so easily broken. But what of his friendship with Brienne? She had told Sansa of his promise to their mother, how he had entrusted her to find Arya and herself and bring them safely home. How he had saved Brienne’s life on more than one occasion and had always treated her honourably. What to make of this lion? And what to do with him now? Perhaps he could still play a part. If they managed to defeat the Night King’s army, they would still have to deal with Cersei. He might be used as a pawn against her and for that, he was valuable. 

Sansa stood up and before Daenerys had a chance to speak again, she addressed Brienne.

“Take him to the First Keep, Lady Brienne, and see that  _ Ser _ …Jaime is given food and a bed.” Brienne nodded. 

Dany, clearly unimpressed with Sansa’s interruption, turned to Brienne, adding, “...and lock him in.” 

 

********   
  


Brienne led Jaime down a long dark hall lit with torches, up 2 flights of stairs and into a small room. It certainly wasn’t fit for the Captain of the Queensguard, but it was cozy and had a proper bed and that’s all that Jaime wanted for now. Brienne threw her fur lined cloak onto a chair and bent down to light a fire in the hearth while Jaime collapsed on the bed. You could see their breath in the air. 

“Tell me, Brienne. How bad is it?” 

Brienne looked over her shoulder at Jaime’s still body, arm thrown across his face, and then back at the kindling she was placing carefully. It was obvious Queen Daenerys did not trust him with this kind of information so she hesitated.

“Brienne, you believe me, don’t you?”, he looked up from the bed, and pulled himself up on his elbows. She needed to believe him, she was one of the only allies he had and he needed her. 

“Of course I do.”, she shook her head. She would suffer the wrath of the queen for this but time  _ was _ running out if he was to help.  “We received a raven from Castle Black. Eastwatch has fallen and the Night King and his army marched over what was left of the wall. They are advancing at we speak.”

“Seven hells.”, Jaime breathed and sat up. “How in the Seven Kingdoms did they break down the wall? Isn’t it supposed to be impenetrable?”

Brienne placed a log on the now crackling fire. She stood and walked to the window, pulling it tight and wedging a piece of wood in the bottom so that it would stay closed. The windows rattled in the wind and snow gathering on the ledges.  _ Would he have come had he known? _ She hesitated and slowly turned to look at Jaime. His face was full of concern, waiting.

“They have a dragon.” Jaime’s body went cold and the scene after Highgarden played over in his head. Fire and smoke and ash. Choking on the smell of burning bodies and horses.

“They have a dragon.” He repeated. “Daenerys’s third dragon. It wasn’t guarding her fleet.”

“No, it wasn’t. They lost it north of the wall, trying to capture the wight they brought to King’s Landing.” 

“Fuck me.”, he breathed. “So now we’re not only fighting 100,000 dead men, but a dead dragon as well?” 

“Yes. We needed the Lannister army.”

He nodded and the severity of the situation fell heavy in his chest. They could all likely die. He shivered despite the fire. He stood and started pacing the width of the small room, his military mind springing to action. 

“How long do we have?”

“King Jon says it’s a fortnight’s walk from Eastwatch but the dead don’t sleep so we’re predicting 12 days. We received the raven six days ago.”

“Six days,”, he breathed. “I have men. Loyal to me. Well … to the Lannister house, but men I fought with side by side in the Riverlands.”, he continued to pace. “They hold both Riverrun and The Twins. I need to send a raven, if Cersei hasn’t already reached them.” He grabbed Brienne by her shoulder. “Please, bring me to the Maester.”

“You know I can’t do that. Not yet. Food is coming and a hot bath. Please, stay here.”, she hesitated. “I’ll talk to Sansa and maybe with Tyrion’s help we can try to find a way to prove what you say. Her Grace needs to be able to trust you and that’s not going to be an easy thing for her. You know that.”

“I know. I’m promising to serve a house full of northerners who want me dead.”, his frustration was clear.

Brienne opened her mouth to speak but hesitated. Should she even ask?

“What … happened … back in Kings Landing?” Did she even  _ want _ to know? Seeing Cersei and Jaime at the dragonpit, side by side, joined in solidarity had been her worst nightmare. He had been cold and angry and distant, and her heart had sank. That was not the Jaime she knew. With one last desperate attempt she had tried to reason with him, to make him see what she saw, but Cersei’s cold stare and his few cutting words had shocked her. Whatever camaraderie they once had dissolved, even though the tension that was always between them, remained.

He softened and looked into her blue eyes. As if reading her thoughts, the memory of their last meeting came to mind, her face severe as she pleaded with him. “You know why I couldn’t be seen to have any allegiance to you and by association, to the Starks.” The meeting had been infinitely uncomfortable, regardless of how good it had been to see her again. The thought of it making him squirm even now. The way Cersei had looked at Brienne had made him go cold. Another reason for him to distance himself from her. He was grateful she had left the city quickly because he couldn’t trust Cersei not to send a sword or two after her. 

“I understand, Ser Jaime…”

“Trust me when I say that it was better that way.”, he said intently.

“Yes, of course...of course it was.” Brienne looked down, flustered. Her initial line of questioning abandoned. Perhaps it was best not to know what transpired between them after that meeting,  whatever was said or done that drove him north. Some things were best left unknown. “I am glad you’re here. I’m … so proud of you. It couldn’t have been easy.” Their eyes met for a long moment, hurt clearly written on his face and he softly nodded. 

A soft knock on the door broke the spell and a young girl’s voice asked to enter. She held a tray with hot, steaming stew, a heel of bread and a large mug of ale. She quickly deposited the tray and scurried out the door. Jaime’s stomach rumbled and he realized how hungry he was. The weight of the last week fell heavy on him. He turned to Brienne who was collecting her cloak and caught her hand in his. It was warm, and despite the strength of it, soft. 

“Thank you, Brienne.”, he said. “Thank you for trusting me with this. I AM going to do what I can.”, and he squeezed her hand. 

She looked down at their hands with surprise but the faintest smile flashed across her face. “I know you will.”, and she squeezed his hand back. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistrust of Jaime runs deep and his claims of desertion is debated. Tyrion and Brienne work to defend his intentions.

“Cersei will need to be dealt with.” Dany was seething, furiously pacing the room after Jaime and Brienne had left. If she could, she would send her dragons to King’s Landing and burn down the Red Keep and everyone in it. 

“She cannot be our concern right now.” Both Jon and Tyrion were trying to calm her down to no avail. Jon didn’t necessarily trust Jaime but he believed his news. “We were fools to think Cersei would deplete her armies to defend the North. There was no word from King’s Landing with the last raven and this confirms it.” Jorah nodded his agreement. 

Davos, a more trusting soul, voiced the possibilities of an alliance. “We might not have the Lannister’s help but if Ser Jaime is telling the truth about his loyalties, he COULD be a powerful ally, through the Great War and whatever might come after. He might be willing to help us defeat Cersei.” 

Arya  dismissed any notion of an alliance with the Kingslayer and spoke her utter disgust with the whole lot of lying Lannisters, “...yourself excluded, of course, Lord Tyrion.”

Tyrion’s smile was polite but brittle. Of course, he believed his brother but held his tongue to let the others have their say. He knew they’d never hear him if they weren’t allowed to voice their concerns first.

“Varys?”, Dany had taken a seat but was drumming her fingers on the chairs' arm. “You’re awfully quiet on the matter. You’ve spent the most time in the Capitol. You must have some information that could be of use. What do you make of this?” 

Varys shrugged, hands folded in front of him. “As you know, My Queen, it’s been some time since I, myself, have been in Westeros let alone in Kings Landing or on the small council. However, Cersei breaking faith from an agreement, never mind a truce, is no real surprise to me. She has the geographic advantage and she would never give that up in order to weaken her opponents. No, that’s not something worth arguing about at this point.”

“As for Ser Jaime’s loyalties, that’s … more interesting. I have never seen him waiver in his support for his father, Lord Tywin, or his dear sister. However...he’s never longed for the throne either, only glory on the battlefield. He did spend quite a long time in the Riverlands with the Starks and then travelling with Lady Brienne. If a man can be swayed from his life’s direction, take away the one thing that defines him. You have to ask yourself what’s left?”, he paused. “Even from Essos, I heard whispers of unrest between Queen Cersei and her brother. It seems that they had many … disagreements … on a number of subjects after his return.” 

Tyrion took the opportunity to follow Varys' lead. “Jaime has always followed orders like a good little soldier should, but something in him changed in the Riverlands. Whether that was losing his sword hand or perhaps Lady Brienne’s influence, he wasn’t the same man when he returned. He kept his oath to your mother, Snow. He helped Brienne bring Sansa home and saved Pod’s life too. He saved  _ my _ life and defied our sister. Jaime has a good heart. I believe he wants to do the right thing.” 

“That might be,”, Dany said, “but he  _ is _ betraying one of you, and you have been away from your brother for some time now. If I’m correct, the last thing he did was release you from prison, only to have you turn around and kill your father. Who could he more easily betray?” 

Tyrion’s mouth tightened. He knew she had a point. Could he  _ really _ be here on Cersei’s orders? He shook his head. He just couldn’t believe that, but he had no way to prove it.

Dany and Jon exchanged a look as if reading each other’s thoughts. Perhaps there was something to these claims, but it wasn’t enough.

Jon spoke up. “We are wasting time arguing about this. What is clear is that the Lannister army is not with us and that means we have a real problem. We are  _ not _ fighting the Lannisters right now, we are fighting the dead and that’s all we can plan for right now. He might have true intentions but I can’t risk that right now. Ser Jaime will remain under guard until this is all over.” Except for Tyrion, they all nodded in agreement. What was the point of arguing when they had the war of all wars to prepare for?

“Agreed.” Dany stood up. “We cannot waste another moment on this. Now, Ser Davos, how are preparations for the fire wall?” They had decided to put the northmen and wildlings to work building a ring of wood, sticks and deadfall, covered in tar around Winterfell. Every useless piece of wood within Winterfell was sacrificed along with a great many trees along the Wolfswood tree line. What they did know of the wights, only a few things would stop their approach...fire and water. Winterfell was without a moat so fire it was. At the first sight of the army approaching, Dany’s dragons would light the ring and it would give them some time to fight the dead outside the castle walls. There were sadly only two dragons left, and with 100,000 dead or more, they couldn’t be everywhere at once. 

Dany’s heart had sank with Bran’s account of the devastation of the wall and it was confirmed with Tormund’s raven. Viserion had been raised by the Night King and now she was facing the very real possibility that her children would have to fight one another. The thought filled her with sorrow and dread. 

Maester Wolkan walked into the room and interrupted her thoughts. There had been a raven from King’s Landing. The room went still as Jon opened the scroll and read aloud. 

“ _ Cersei Lannister, first of her name, Queen of Westeros and defender of the Seven Kingdoms has decreed that her brother, Jaime Lannister, is hereby known as a traitor to the crown. A reward will be granted to anyone able to capture and transport Ser Jaime back to King’s Landing for trial and sentencing. _ ”

Silence fell over the room. Tyrion closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face.  _ Our sweet sister. Would the Lannisters never stop trying to destroy each other? _

*******

“Let Jaime Lannister near a raven? Are you MAD?” 

Brienne had found Lady Sansa in the kitchens, going through a list of provisions. New shipments of food and grain had been arriving all day from surrounding farms and the job of Lady of the House was to make sure all was accounted for and stored properly. Requests for food had been made for the coming winter, but with war on their doorsteps, it was needed for the fighting men who had been arriving throughout the week. The kitchen maids were working through the night. There was no time to waste. The entire castle was in a constant state of preparation.

“My lady, if you could just please listen…”, pleaded Brienne.

“Why should I? The Lannisters have been an enemy of our family since the day we left Winterfell. They have MURDERED half my family!! You cannot say that Jaime wasn’t a part of that plotting and scheming! How is it that he’s suddenly a changed man?” 

“With all due respect, my lady, where was Jaime when all this was happening?”, Brienne asked.

“I don’t know. Doing Cersei’s bidding, no doubt! I was busy being married off to Tyrion like a pawn!”

“He was in the Riverlands, being held captive by your mother. And then he was with me. How could he have been a part of the plotting? Please, just listen to me, my lady. I know it’s hard to imagine, but he’s not the man you think he is.”

Sansa ignored Brienne, and kept making notes in her journal. 

“What we should be focusing on is the fact that the Lannister army is not coming to our aid, and we need help. We  _ need _ men. Jaime is trying to help us find them.” Sansa walked to the other end of the kitchen and Brienne followed behind her. She was not about to give up that easily.

“No disrespect intended, my lady, but you of all people should know that sometimes you have to align with someone you mistrust in order to gain their help.” That stopped Sansa’s writing and she looked up. 

“ _ That _ was different.” She was clearly annoyed at Brienne for daring to bring that up.

“How so? Did you trust Littlefinger at the time, or did you already have suspicions about him? Yet you asked for his help, and you won back your home. How is this any different?”

“That’s not fair.” Something of the young Sansa crept into her voice. 

“It’s not unfair...my lady.” Brienne was wondering if she was getting through to her or just crossing the lines of her their relationship. 

“Lady Sansa, if you really want to know, one way or the other if he poses a threat to us, to your home, you know who to ask.”, she said more gently.

Sansa glared at Brienne, slammed her book down on the table and stalked out of the room. Brienne followed.

********

“It could still be a ploy.”, Dany said. “Her way of bringing him back to King’s Landing safely with information.” It was late in the evening and Dany, Jon and Tyrion were in Jon’s solar, conferring, when Sansa walked in, followed by Brienne pushing Bran in his chair. 

“Ser Jaime is telling the truth.” Sansa said bluntly. “He’s broken with his house and Cersei wants him dead. Bran, tell them.”

“I saw it.”, was all that Bran said. Dany's eyebrows raised. Tyrion's eyes widened. Of course! Bran would know.

Jon crouched in front of Bran so they were eye to eye.  “Tell me, Bran. What did you see?”

Bran looked at Jon with his calm and vacant eyes. “It’s true. Ser Jaime was preparing his armies to journey north and Cersei stopped him. They argued. Ser Jaime tried to convince her that it wasn’t about houses and loyalty, it was about survival.” A slow soft smile spread over Brienne’s face at this. _He had listened to her!_ “Cersei wouldn’t hear it. She said what Ser Jaime was doing was treason and she threatened to have him killed by The Mountain. Then Ser Jaime left.” 

Jon looked at Bran intently. “Are you sure, Bran? Is there anything else?”

“The Golden Company is on their way to Westeros. They mean to fight for her.”

Jon nodded grimly and looked to Dany, her face a picture of fire and ice. “We will be ready for her.”

“We’re going to have to survive the Army of the Dead first.” Tyrion said, hoping that this would put their mistrust of Jaime to rest.

Brienne stepped forward and addressed Dany. “With your permission, your grace, I’d like to take Maester Wolkan to Jaime. He needs to send ravens to The Twins and Riverrun. He might have some of the men we need.”

Dany looked to Jon for confirmation. They both nodded. This might be the break they needed. 

“Do it.”, she said. “Tyrion, go with her. And make sure you read them before they fly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's a lot of discussion. There's no way they would take Jaime at his word, it would take a lot of convincing, and I'm trying to be as realistic as possible. :)
> 
> I hope you're enjoying it so far. I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m glad you’re here, big brother. I have missed you.” Jaime knelt down as Tyrion came to embrace him. An odd lump formed in Jaime’s throat, and a wave of emotion welled up in him. Despite the harrowing circumstances they found themselves in, something within him was finally starting to sit right again, like a leaning ship righting itself.
> 
> Jaime POV. Jaime is confronted by his past in his first full day at Winterfell.

Jaime woke from the deepest most dreamless sleep that it felt like he’d just put his head on the pillow and closed his eyes when he heard a knock on his door. For a moment he thought it was Cersei and she would burst through the door, not waiting for him to call, as she always did. _Jaime, my love...wake up!_ The cold in the room brought him fully awake and a weight fell on him when he remembered where he was. The ache for home settled somewhere in the middle of his chest. Perhaps he had been dreaming. _Where was home now?_ He pushed it down. He was going to have to make the best of it now that he was here.

“Come.”, he called to the door.  It was the same kitchen maid from the night before, bringing him his noon-day meal. She set it on the table and began to relight the fire in the hearth. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fully capable, thank you.” She gave him a wide-eyed stare, did a quick curtsy and scurried out the door. It was clear she didn’t want to be alone in the same room with him anyway.

He dressed quickly, stuffed a wedge of bread into his mouth and bent to tend to the fire himself.

A warmer feeling filled him as he thought of the night before. As promised, Brienne had brought the maester and Tyrion to his room and they had scribbled out a call to arms for both the Twins and Riverrun. He wished both birds a straight and true flight as they set them free. There was little hope that Cersei hadn’t called them first, but he hoped there was some loyalty still left in the men he had fought and bled with. They would just have to wait it out.  

Looking around the room in the light of day, it was even less fitting for someone of his station, but, he had to remind himself, he didn’t have an official station, currently. Not anymore.

He walked to the window and threw open the shutters to an icy blast of cold. Framed perfectly from his vantage point, was a clear view of the broken tower. The tower where he had, all those years ago, pushed a young Brandon Stark to this death, or so he had thought. It seemed like a lifetime ago, like another part of himself that he didn’t recognize anymore. He shook his head and couldn’t help a wry smile. He had to give Sansa credit. She was making her message painfully clear. _The north remembers._

“And a Lannister always pays his debts.”

Jaime shuttered the window and, still ravenous, gulped down the rest of his cold breakfast. He opened the door to his room and found a young boy in the hallway, standing guard.

He looked both ways down the hall, and then back at the young lad. “I suppose I’m not allowed to leave my room.”

“No, sorry Ser.”, the young lad said, looking nervous.

“Uh huh. What’s your name, boy?”

“Emon Glover, Ser.”

Jaime stuck out his left hand. “The Kingslayer. Good to meet you. I suppose we’re going to get to know each other quite well.” The boy didn’t know how to reply, not only because Jaime had completely taken him off guard but he had to use his left hand, which made for an awkward handshake.

Just then, Pod rounded a corner and approached the pair.

“Pod! Well, isn’t this a happy reunion!”

Pod smiled shyly. “Good to see you too, Ser. I’ve come to take you to the stables. On King Jon’s orders.”

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Ummmm.”, he hesitated and blushed a bit. “No. Please follow me.”

********

Jaime soon found himself in the stables, trowel awkwardly balanced in one hand, shovelling horse shit and grumbling. He had been unarmed the moment he had faced the queen last night and it seemed they had decided to replace it. They were certainly going to put him through his paces, but if he was honest, it wasn’t the worst place to be. The stables were warm and he had always loved the company of horses, much more so than most people. And it was certainly better than standing trial and defending his actions, which he knew he would still have to face at some point.

It took him longer than most but he managed to finish mucking out the stalls and had moved on to brushing out the horses, when Pod showed up again with another request.

“You’re wanted in the Great Room, Ser Jaime.” It had come sooner than he thought.

“Can I wash up first?”

“I was told to bring you straight away.”

Jaime threw the horse brush into a bucket and rubbed his hands together quickly. “Lead on, then, young Pod.”

Pod led him across the courtyard, past the smithy until Jaime stood outside the door to the Great Room. Daenerys Targaryen had summoned him as he knew she would. There were a great many people at Winterfell whose trust Jaime needed to gain, but none more important than the Dragon Queen.

Since King Jon had bent the knee to her, she was the newly declared Queen of the North, and it was most certainly the north he was in. But this wasn’t a moment he ever thought he would need to face. Killing his sworn King had been a moment that he always hoped he could put behind him, but it had attached itself to him like a disease throughout his life. Facing his King’s daughter was like putting himself back into the throne room and reliving the nightmare all over again.

However, since the day he heard Daenerys had landed in Westeros, he knew at some point he would have to face her, although he assumed he would have had the backing of the Crown and the Kingsguard. His decision to leave the safety of the Red Keep and his family meant that he was about to face her alone with the possible threat of death. And that monumental moment, dirty and smelling like horse shit, had now come. He took a deep breath as the guards outside the door allowed him entry.

Dany sat at the long wood table with Tyrion who looked more nervous than Jaime felt. He walked to the middle of the room as Greyworm of the Unsullied and her bloodrider Qhono of the Dothraki appeared at his sides. _Everyone gathered for a nice, clean execution_ , he thought.

He stood for a moment, again, not knowing how to address her, so he stood at ease and gave her one quick nod while Tyrion rolled his eyes. Dany’s mouth hardened but she said nothing. What did she expect from him?

“And so we meet at last. _Ser_ Jaime.” She made sure to lean heavily on the “Ser”. “Although, I always dreamed I’d meet you across a battlefield.”

“If memory serves, we have already met across a battlefield. Well, you were _above_ the battlefield.” He tried to sound flippant but his anger rose at the memory of the loss of a great many men, _his_ men. He pushed it aside. He knew coming in anger would only do more harm to their tentative alliance and possibly put an end to his life.

“Yes. Indeed.” If she was gloating, she didn’t let it show. “I hope you know that whatever freedom you’re allowed here is on trial and only temporary. Unless, of course, you bow the knee and vow to serve me as your Queen, if that means anything to you. After this war is over, I intend to ride south and take back what is rightfully mine. You are going to have to choose between me or your sister.”

“I’m well aware of the current situation as well as your intentions. Why else would you be in Westeros with armies, ships and dragons? Certainly not by invitation. As for my plans, right now I have none besides fighting with you and the North against the dead. I’m a traitor to the Crown so I doubt my sister is going to take me back, even if I wanted to serve her again.”

“And do you? Want to serve her again?”

Jaime’s jaw clenched. What else was he to say? “No.”

“And why not? Where _do_ your loyalties lie, Ser Jaime?”

“With all of Westeros. It’s Westeros I fight for.”

“And were you fighting for Westeros when you drew your blade across my father’s throat? Shall I expect the same?”

He smiled coldly. “And here we are.” He couldn’t contain his anger any longer. “How long have you waited to face me and call me Kingslayer for yourself? Did the thought burn in your Targaryen belly all these years, driving you forward? And now you finally get to face the man who did away with your dear old dad! Did you know your father as I did? Did you stand by his side, held by an oath to protect him as he slowly went mad with power and paranoia? Watch him burn and cook his sworn lords in their very armour? Did you watch him plot and scheme to destroy the very people who served him? The things he asked me to do...the things he _demanded_ me to do!” Jaime’s face twisted at the memory. “I hear you call yourself Breaker of Chains. Your father had us ALL in chains! My oath to him were MY chains and I gladly broke them and freed a city of my own. So. I don’t think you and I are so very dissimilar.” In his anger Jaime took a step towards the table where Dany sat but both Greyworn and Qhono drew their swords. The sound of metal sliding from their sheathes was enough to stop him in his tracks and he calmly stepped backwards.   

“If you did not know your father as I did, then you have nothing to accuse me of. If I had to do it again, I would.”

Dany’s face had remained a cold mask but his words had cut. Of course she hadn’t known her father as this man had. How could she? She was barely a wean when she was whisked away to safety. But the stories that had floated back from Westeros over the years had chilled her. She saw the same madness in her brother Viserys and had been more than happy to end his life. She did not blame Ser Jaime for the decision he had made. What she wanted to know was how his loyalties now lay. If he could slay a King, why not a Queen of the same line?

“I am not my father.”

“No? And yet you burned thousands of men to the ground in minutes! Remember, I was there.”

“After you sacked and slaughtered one of my alliances!”, she snapped.

“Your alliances! The Tyrells were allies of the Lannisters before you showed up on our shores. What did you expect? That all of Westeros would acquiesce to your claimed lineage and we’d all take the knee?”

“Yes! You killed my father and by right, the throne is mine.” Things were quickly turning sour.

Tyrion stepped forward and interrupted them both. “My Queen, brother, forgive me. I think it’s clear that there is … history …  between our two houses. I don’t think either side can fault the other for being loyal to them. We have many differences, but perhaps we can try to think of our commonalities. We have all been separated from our families for one reason or another.” Jaime gave Tyrion a knowing look, but avoiding his eyes, Tyrion continued. “We both know the pain it causes to see the ones we love do horrible things. There is no erasing the past, but right now, we are all standing in the same room, willing to fight a common enemy side by side. That must be worth something, don’t you think?”

Dany and Jaime stared at each other in silence.

“There will be no throne to claim if we don’t start working together instead of working against each other. I know you both and you are both good people and want what’s best for all of Westeros. I know you will see that in each other...given time. Can we not set this aside, just for now?”

Dany looked over to Tyrion, pleading in his eyes.

“Your brother is right. There is no time to argue about the past. You have agreed to fight, and more importantly, you have requested that Lannister men come to our aid. For that I am grateful. All I ask for now is your loyalty in this battle.” She said grudgingly and looked at him expectantly.

Tyrion raised his eyebrows at Jaime, just enough to send a message. _Make peace! If only for now._

“And I am grateful to you for allowing me to stay, despite your mistrust. You have treated me more civilly than many would have. All that I have done was out of loyalty, which I have recently come to realize was not returned. My alliance with Cersei has been severed. I have no ill intentions towards you or the Starks, now or after the war. I will stand by our truce. My sword is yours until this war is over. If I had my sword, I would swear an oath on it but as it stands...”, he looked to his side and Greyworm merely shook his head. Jaime shrugged his shoulders.

Dany took it all in, her face softened just slightly and she nodded her acceptance.

A true smile spread across Tyrion’s face, perhaps the first one since he had left King’s Landing all those years ago.

“I’m glad you’re here, big brother. I have missed you.” Jaime knelt down as Tyrion came to embrace him. An odd lump formed in Jaime’s throat, and a wave of emotion welled up in him. Despite the harrowing circumstances they found themselves in, something within him was finally starting to sit right again, like a leaning ship righting itself.

“Prickly, this one...”, he said under his breath, trying to quell his emotions.

“You have no idea.”, Tyrion whispered.

“Bending the knee a lot these days, are you?”, Tyrion gave him a withering look.

Dany came around the table to stand in front of both Lannister men. “We have an agreement then. I accept your sword, Ser Jaime. And I hope you soon see that regardless of who my father was, I am a fair ruler and answer injustice with justice. I think you can understand we are not our fathers and we are not our families. We can be more than that. However, be aware that one day soon you will have to reconsider your loyalties.”

He nodded and turned to leave, but halfway across the room he turned and walked back to Dany, looking straight into her eyes. “For all that the Mad King was, he was still your father. And for that I am truly sorry.” He bent to kiss her hand and strode quickly out of the room, leaving Dany wide-eyed.

********

After his exchange with Dany, Jaime was given freedom to wander the grounds. However, still swordless and on Dany’s insistence, a guard was assigned to shadow him. Secretly, he seethed at the mistrust. He had given up all to be here, to fight for the North, in fact, all of Westeros! Yet, he couldn’t help but ask himself what would Cersei have done, given the same circumstances? He certainly wouldn’t be wandering the halls of his enemy’s home. He wouldn’t be wandering anywhere, he was sure.

At Tyrion’s request, “ _...he came here to fight, let him fight!”_ , Jaime had been invited by King Jon to discuss strategy. He followed him to the Great Hall but before they entered, Jon stopped in his tracks and turned, his face so close to Jaime’s he could feel his breath on his cheek.

“You are here upon my good graces and the good graces of my family. If you so much as hurt a hair on their heads while you’re here, I promise you I will hunt you down and show you all the hospitality your family showed to my mother and brother at the Twins.” His voice was menacing and his blue eyes were the colour of cut ice.

Jaime looked back at him solemnly. “You have my word, Snow.” Jon nodded and turned to enter the Great Hall, as they were met with protests from many of the northern lords.

Jon silenced them immediately. “Ser Jaime is here on a truce with the north. If he’s going to fight he’s going to need to know what we’re up against. That is all I will hear of it.”

He felt everyone’s eyes on him, including Brienne’s who was seated at one of the long tables across the room. Hers was the only eyes that send him any kindness. The discussion soon turned to the matter at hand. He sat down quietly listening and learning what they knew of their opponent, giving his input when it came to tactical maneuvers, and watching the unlikely collective...lords and ladies of the north, queens of the south, sworn swords, wildlings, pirates, eunuchs, smugglers and deserters, arguing points, discussing strengths and weaknesses of their armies. Those who should have been sworn enemies but had come together for a larger purpose. Perhaps he fit in better than he thought.

During the discussion, Jon slipped him the message from King’s Landing, most likely to see his reaction, and as much as he would have liked to keep a solemn face, the words hit him like a punch in the stomach and he was sure they saw him flinch. “Sentencing”, she had said, as if she had known what the final conclusion would have been. The Lannister trials were rarely fair, he knew. It was all real. She wanted him dead. Could she really hate him? Had all her love for him vanished when she took the throne? _I always knew you were the stupidest Lannister._ There was still a part of him that wondered if she would allow him to return after they had defeated the dead. He could go back to his sister and plead for understanding. But did he honestly want that? It would mean fighting against these very people who had placed their tentative trust in him. It would mean fighting across the field from Brienne. He didn’t know which thought hit him the hardest. Cersei’s letter felt like a steel door slamming. The thought of betraying Brienne was like a knife to his heart.

When it came to to tactics, it was chilling to hear Jon talk about the dead army that was approaching. Proper protocol of engagement was what Jaime was most experienced at, but this...this was something altogether new. Jon and a few others had been the only ones to actually engage the enemy in battle and from what he told of it, there WERE no rules. They fought with a fierceness and disregard for personal safety as he had never seen. Manic, he described it. The White Walkers rarely engaged in battle but the weapons they wielded were not of the world they knew...clear blue ice lances that had, apparently, cut down a fire-breathing dragon. Most importantly, the dead did not fall when they should. Dragonglass in the hands of every soldier would be imperative. The old rules of battle were null and void.  

Riders had been sent out to patrol the woods beyond Winterfell, to keep watch for any sign of the advancing army. But better yet, Jaime learned, a lone raven scanned the forests and roads day and night between Winterfell and the Wall for any movement. Bran. Brienne had told him something of the 3-eyed raven last night, although she hardly understood it herself. Bran was now a warg. He had shook his head at the wonder if it all...wargs, giants, white walkers and dragons...all the stuff of his childhood dreams and nightmares had come true, and the North had held it’s secrets like a cold, ancient fairytale. It became clear that the South, in all it’s finery and warm summer evenings, Dornish wine and iron thrones, knew nothing of the power and the nightmares the North held.

Jaime looked over at Brienne on the far side of the room, intently studying the map of Winterfell and the roads beyond. _Brienne_. How far the two of them had come from the cage at Riverrun where they first met. He had thought of her as a great beast of a woman, an anomaly, but when he saw her now, he saw a friend, a loyal companion, a brave and true knight, although she would argue that point whenever he brought it up. He had been an arrogant fool and he had treated her unkindly, more unkind than she ever deserved. He cringed at the memory. They had made peace at Harenhal, and he had found comfort in that. How many true friends did he really have in the world? There was a time when he hadn’t cared, all that mattered was Cersei. Friends be damned. They always let you down in the end anyway. Brienne had proven him wrong. Her loyalties ran deep and true, and he knew he didn’t deserve her friendship. He would spend whatever time he had left making it up to her. He quietly promised her that.

As if she could hear him thinking, she looked up and met his gaze. _Gods, she had extraordinary blue eyes!_ She sent him a small, half smile and then resumed her study. He hadn’t been at all attracted to her before Harenhal, intrigued yes. She was a far better fighter than he had imagined she’d be. Confident, in control, she knew her strength and was oblivious to any potential harm. Winning was all. He had admired the way she handled a sword. Like an extension of her own body. He knew that feeling well.

But that evening in the bathhouses when, floating on a fevered dream, he had bared all to her. His one dark secret, his triumph and his downfall. Forever branded Kingslayer. She had listened to his rantings and with wide blue eyes, she had finally understood. She had been a beautiful dream to him that night before he collapsed into her arms. And she had never called him Kingslayer again.

Since that night, there had been an inexplicable pull towards her, like an invisible piece of thread that led from his chest to hers. And when he was in her presence that pull became stronger. Did she feel it too? It wasn’t something he quite understood but he felt it nonetheless.

He studied her from across the room...broad shoulders, a straight nose and wide mouth, platinum blond shock of hair. The set of her stubborn chin and her skin … except for a few battle scars, it was the colour of alabaster and pearl … she did not have the classic outer beauty that Cersei had but she also had none of the cunning, the vindictiveness, the cruelty. Nevertheless, the more time Jaime spent with Brienne, the more beauty she gained in his eyes. And he found it unsettling that his heart stilled when she smiled at him. It could drive him to distraction. As it was doing now. For a second time that day, a well of emotion took him off guard.

From his seated position beside the queen, Tyrion studied his brother watching Brienne and the play of emotions that slid across this face. _Interesting_ , Tyrion thought.

The meeting was breaking up and Jaime needed air. Regardless of being followed by his armed lad, Emon, he roamed the inner courtyard of Winterfell, watching the flurry of activity and it helped to distract his mind to matters of importance.

Out from under the balcony he stood on, he saw Arya and Sansa emerge, wheeling Bran across the courtyard and through the gate that led to the Gods Wood. He felt a quick stab of pride, seeing the two Stark sisters...whole and happy, back in their rightful place. He and Brienne had done that. It was quickly overshadowed by their brother in the wheelchair. It was the first he had seen of Bran since that fateful visit years ago. It shocked Jaime to see the change in him. He was older, taller, although it was hard to tell given his seated position, but it was his expression that surprised him the most. Where there was once a happy young boy, climbing the tower walls that his mother had forbade him to climb, there now sat a solemn still-faced young man. Silent as a corpse. _Gods, would the ghosts of his past ever leave him?_ He knew he had a duty to Bran, to at least talk with the boy and make his amends. Would he even accept them? Why did he did he even care if he did? _Who have you become?_

He descended the balcony, needing to kept moving. His wandering took him past the doorway that led down to the crypts of Winterfell and he hesitated. _Why not?_ , he thought bitterly. If he was to make his amends, he knew where he needed to start.

Jaime walked the long, dark corridor. Lit only by torches, he walked through Winterfell’s proud and not so proud past, Bran the Builder, the founder of the Stark House, Brandon Stark and his son Rickard, whom he felt he had avenged with the death of Aerys. King Torrhen Stark, the King who Knelt. He walked past the crypt of Lyanna Stark, the young girl who started Robert’s Rebellion, and on and on until he came to stand in front of the crypt of Lord Eddard Stark.

He looked up into the cold, stone face of the man he had despised since the Rebellion. The man who had judged him mercilessly after Jaime had saved King’s Landing from the Mad King and in the same act, avenged the death of Lord Stark’s father and brother by the hand of Aerys. Bitterness rose up in his throat. The noble and naive Lord of the North whose loyalty and sense of morality had lost him his head. And now, for his naivety, Lord Stark’s legacy was truth and honour and Jaime, for his bravery and courage, was condemned a traitor twice over.

“Fool!”, he spat, but in his mind he knew that stubborn loyalty and honor had been Ned’s greatest weakness. The same qualities he so admired in Brienne. What then?

Jaime sank to his knees. Ned had been naive, but only because he had lived a life in the north where trust and honour meant something, far away from the intrigues, plots and games of the Capitol. He had tried to play the game but hadn’t understood the rules and it cost him his head. He wasn’t born for it. And if he was honest, he had hated Ned Stark because he had wanted everything he had. A family, a home full of children, noble sons to keep his legacy. _A full life!_  

Jaime had never cared about titles and lands and power. That was Cersei’s domain. But what he desired most was kept from him. He had never been allowed to marry his love or claim his children for his own. He had stood back and watched them grow into little kings and princesses of the Baratheon house while he played golden guard to their false father. A life of lies. A half life. Only briefly had he known the love of a child, when Marcella confessed that she knew who he was and called him “Father”. His heart had swelled with a love he’d never known just before she died in his arms. He looked up into Lord Stark’s face once more. Ned had grown into the man he was and his legacy would remain because he had been gifted that kind of love throughout his life.

“You will never truly know me, and I will never prove myself to you, but I promise I will prove myself to your children.”, he whispered and he knelt his head as the bitter tears finally came. Tears for his lost love. Tears for his lost children. Tears for the child Cersei now carried that again, would never be his. And regardless of Emon who stood silent sentry, he wept openly for them for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was such fun, getting inside Jaime's head at a very interesting moment in his life. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve told you in the past, I'd never asked you to betray your house.“ Brienne’s voice was soft and calm but she could feel herself start to shake. She knew where his frustration and anger was coming from. Jaime was still fighting a war with his heart. He might have made the decision to ride north but in very real ways, he was still in King’s Landing, walking the long halls of the Red Keep. Cersei and Tywin at his side, whispering into his ear. As much as she wanted to step in between them, she knew it wasn’t her place. 
> 
> Lots of J&B moments here.

There was a palpable, nervous energy felt throughout the castle and Jaime felt it as keenly as anyone. His trusty sidekick, Emon, had vanished earlier that day, after his time in the crypts, and he wondered if his moment of weakness had been relayed back to the queen. Brienne had been nowhere to be found, and Tyrion was holed up with Jon and Dany, reading news that the ravens had delivered. He wondered what bad news had arrived now but so far, he hadn’t been advised. From the looks on their faces, it wasn’t good. 

Feeling alone and restless, he requested his sword back to train. It had been answered with a dire warning if he were to use it against any of Winterfell’s residents. What did they think? He would take on an entire castle on his own? 

With frustration and heartache and a deeply unsettled feeling, he went straight to the training yard and that’s where Brienne found him that evening, still hacking away at the training dummies. Brienne had been hoping to catch him there. She had been busy that day helping Sansa with preparations for the women and children. Many of the older women, sick and young were being transported south to the Erie from White Harbour and only a small group of younger soldiers were being spared for the trip. She had volunteered to go but Jon had agreed that she was far to valuable a warrior to lose if the Army of the Dead were to descend while she was gone. She secretly didn’t mind staying. She intended to fight. She wanted to fight. And, as much as she fought the notion, she wanted to stay close to Jaime. 

For a moment, she watched him from a distance, his lean form lunging and striking, and she was impressed. He had been training with Ser Bronn after she left King’s Landing and it showed. Remembering their one spar on the bridge all those years ago, his reflexes had been quick, even in shackles, but not as good as hers, she remembered with a smile. Here she saw those same reflexes working, if not quite as quick as they once were. Jaime, as consumed as he was with his sword, didn’t see her approaching.

“Why don’t you try that on someone who will actually fight back?”

Startled, he turned quickly to face her and she saw the misery clearly written there. But it quickly lightened upon seeing her.

“Are you sure you want another go?”, he said, breathing hard and twirling his sword in his left hand. “Ser Bronn was a brutal instructor but he left my arm in much better form for it.”

“I can see that already. But...I think I’ll take my chances.” She smiled. She would still best him, she knew.

They circled each other, taking in each other’s stance, and watching carefully for a sign of attack. Neither were wearing their armour but they both carried their swords, Oathkeeper and Widow’s Wail. They knew it was a dangerous, if not deadly, game they played. 

Brienne struck first but Jaime parried and they both grinned. “Don’t get too cocky, Ser Jaime. I can see you’re already out of breath. It just a matter of time.”

“And time is all we have, it seems.”

Eyes were locked, watching each other carefully, and they both thrilled in the chase. Thrust and parry. Brienne would swing wide and Jaime would duck and turn behind her. Jaime would lunge and Brienne would meet his sword with her own, metal singing and scraping, knocking his aside. His arm was strong, but hers was stronger, and as they fought, she realized that against a true army, one that knew no fear or pain, she would worry for his life. 

“And how is it to be here? I see you are without your armed guard and you have your sword back. You must have gained some trust.”, she asked as they circled each other again.

“Well...it’s cold and dark and miserable.”

“Winter is here. It’s about to become cold and dark and miserable everywhere. You’re not the only one that feels that way.” Brienne saw an opening and took it. She swung, catching him off guard and brought her sword down. At the last second Jaime managed to meet her sword with his own, but within an inch of his neck, knocking him to the ground. Brienne bent over him holding him to the ground but as their eyes met, and she saw him turn from surprise to surrender, she found she couldn’t look away. Their arms gave up their positions and rested on his chest, swords touching, side by side, and for a moment, they seemed to glow a soft, cold blue. 

“You were meant to ride north. They belong here. Together.”, she said softly. Their breath, frosty in the cold air, mingled between them.

Jaime looked into her blue eyes, so much like ice, but he felt a heat grow in him regardless.  _ He wanted her. _ The feeling shocked him. The thread was short and strong and he wanted to pull her closer and feel her warmth. He saw the same reflected in her, the same need grow in her eyes. “Perhaps they do.”, he whispered and her eyes widened. He slowly pulled her closer and she let him. 

A group of young boys entered the training yard, loudly boasting of whom was to beat whom and how long it would take. It shook Brienne and Jaime from their trance and she quickly moved off of him and stood. He lay on the ground, eyes closed, cursing the young boys and at the same time asking himself what had just happened. Perhaps they had saved him. Brienne held out her hand to him and he accepted it, pulling him to his feet. He picked up Widow’s Wail, walked past her with a curt nod and continued to batter the training dummy. 

***********

Others soon followed the young boys and Brienne had trained hard all that evening but not again with Jaime. He had avoided her the rest of the night. By the end, her entire body ached with every swing of Oathkeeper. She had left Jaime and Jon in the yard. Jon had watched from the balcony for a while as Jaime had fought with one of the younger boys, until he quickly descended the stairs and challenged Jaime to a match. Brienne was sure he was testing him. It would be the perfect moment to injure or even kill the young Stark lord, but so far, Jon had no reason to worry. With one hand, Jon clearly had the advantage. 

Exhausted and head spinning, she quietly slipped down to the heated pools below the keep, hoping to find them empty. Two of the kitchen maids were just stepping out of a pool on the far side of the dark, humid room and drying themselves off. Brienne made herself busy, slowly removing her boots and untying her leather jerkin, biding her time until the tittering maids left. She never felt comfortable unrobing, even around other woman, knowing she would get the stares and whispers that accompanied it. And so she waited for those moments, late after the candles had been blown out, to make her way down.

Now she quickly undressed and slipped into the soothing water, laying her head back on the edge and closed her eyes. Try as she might, she couldn’t banish thoughts of that moment in the yard. She had felt his need as strongly as she had felt her own and it made her now blush. Could it be real? Jaime was in no place to think of her as anything but a friend, but as inexperienced as she was in the world of lust and love, she had at once knew what that feeling was between them. She wondered what might have happened had those boys not interrupted them at that exact moment. She closed her eyes at the thought and a rush of heat swept through her.  _ Gods, she hadn’t wanted it to stop! _ She knew she would have succumbed to whatever might have followed, gods be damned. And what would that have made her? A disgraced women? A maiden defiled? She was a warrior. She knew nothing of these things.

She tried to clear her head. Dwelling on these thoughts only meant a sleepless night. There were more important matters to think on. The impending war and the fate of all Westeros! Visions of the dead, the kind they had seen at the Dragonpit, flooded her mind. How were any of them to make it through this nightmare? There was still no word from Tarth. She had sent a raven to him immediately after her return from King’s Landing, after hearing the news from the north. She wondered if she’d ever see her beloved Tarth or her father again? She had never made plans to go back and stay, but she always assumed she would one day see him again, and her home. Nothing was certain anymore and it made her head swim. They would be safe. Regardless of what happened on the mainland, the island of Tarth would be safe from the dead and that gave her some comfort. 

Tarth made her think of her childhood and Brienne started humming a little tune she had been taught as a child. It comforted her reeling mind. She brought a handful of warm water to her face and neck and tried to wash away the day’s events.

Jaime descended the stairs, longing for a hot bath and bed, his arm ached, as it did most nights, from the weight of the gold hand but the evening’s training had worn it right out. His entire body hummed with each blow he had taken, and, if he was honest with himself, from that moment with Brienne. He found himself still aching for her nearness, for her touch. It had ignited something in him that wasn’t to be extinguished, at least not tonight.

His feet stopped on the stairs when he heard a sound coming from the pools below. He wasn’t alone. Leaning his back against the wall, he sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to humour whomever he would share a bath with, or tolerate their snears. He turned to go, but something about the voice was familiar, something drew him down the stairs to catch a glimpse. It was Brienne and she was bathing herself, as she had been all those years ago at Harenhal and humming a soft song. The fire grew a little hotter. She had a lovely voice and it caught him completely off guard. He knew he should go, he shouldn’t play with this fire, but without a second thought, he descended the stairs.

“So... if I wanted to find the Maiden Warrior, Lady Brienne of Tarth, where would I look?” Brienne, jumped at the sound of his voice behind her and sent a wave of warm water splashing over the edge of the pool. “Dutifully guarding the whole of the north from the icy cold battlements of Winterfell? No... Standing sentry beside her long sought after Lady of Winterfell? No! ...Ah!! Bathing luxuriously in the depths of Winterfell’s keep and SINGING. YES!” He laughed fondly at the look of utter embarrassment on her face, the blush creeping up the sides of her already heated face. 

“Here we are again. Forever bound to meet in the dank, dark pools of whatever castle we’re holed up in at the moment.”

She wiped her face and sunk under the dark water a bit further.  _ Gods help her from this torture! _

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that. You’re bound to find yourself stuck on the pointy end of a sword.” Her embarrassment turned to grumpiness but her heart leapt as he dropped his breeches and she quickly turned her back to him. He stepped into the pool and sat across from her.

“Ah, but I didn’t see a sword for miles, and besides, it was your siren call that beckoned me. Surely you can’t blame me for that.” She avoided meeting his eyes. 

Jaime stretched his muscles and felt them relaxing under the weight and heat of the water. He saw Brienne trying not to watch him just as he was vividly aware that she was sitting just a couple arm’s reach away from him. Her cheeks were pink from the heat which made her eyes all the more blue. There was nothing more he wanted than to take her long, lean and naked body into his arms and feeling the length of her pressed against him. 

“You never cease to surprise me, my lady. You have a lovely voice. I just never pictured you the singing type. What was it you were singing?” 

Exhaustion and heat must have taken over his senses because, against his better judgement, he crossed the pool to sit beside her, his shoulder touching hers. 

“I wasn’t singing, I was ... humming, and it was just … just a song I knew as a child.” Brienne’s heart was pounding through her chest, so much so that he must have heard it. His nearness was making her slightly dizzy, like she’d had too much wine. He had dropped his chin to his shoulder which put his lips in almost direct contact with her shoulder. She couldn’t move. 

“Hmmmm. I’m picturing you as a child...skinned knees and a wicked temper. A song of Tarth. A song of moons and stars and sun bursts, no doubt.” His green eyes lifted to hers.

“Actually, no. I … I think it was about a Prince who gave up lands and titles to marry his…”, her voice trailed off. 

“One true love? Idiot. And was this Prince branded as a traitor and banished to the Lands of Forever Winter? Most likely.” She could feel his breath on her face.

“I think it was a happily ever after kind of song. Meant for children.”

“Happily ever after.”, he said, as if it was a concept he’d never before considered. “Is there a happily ever after for you, Brienne?” Jaime asked softly but his voice echoed in the vast room. Droplets of water and sweat trickled down her face and dropped into the water with a  _ ping! _ He lifted a finger to trace it’s path and she shivered.

“If there is an ever after, as long as I have Oathkeeper in my hands, it will be happy.” she swallowed and tried to still her pounding heart. “And … and what of you?”

Jaime’s hand stilled. Brienne saw his eyes change like a cloud moving over the sun. His hand dropped to the water.  _ What was he doing? _ Her large, innocent eyes searched his, trying to determine what was going through his head, and he knew that he was doing her a disservice. Was this just loss and lust he was feeling? Or was he seriously entertaining thoughts of Brienne in his future? He was a dishonoured knight. What could he ever offer her now? 

“There is no happily ever after for me. I don’t see it.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“You don’t know that. None of us do. We have a chance to defeat them.” Brienne felt the space open up between them. He was gone.

“And if we defeat them, what then? I go back to King’s Landing and have Cersei welcome me back with open arms? Not likely. Not as long as Euron is willing to do anything to please her. Casterly Rock is out of the question too. Cersei will take it back at her first available chance. I’ll be doomed to take the black and walk this godsforsaken frozen wasteland for the rest of my life. Or maybe take a ship to Essos and live my days out in disguise. Perhaps a faceless man!” he laughed bitterly. “No, I don’t see a place for me.” 

“If we live through this war, there will be a place for a knight of honour. A savior of Westeros.”

“Only one who bends the knee.”

“Would that be so bad?”, she asked softly.

“It depends on whom I’m bending it for.”

Silence fell and Jaime opened his eyes to watch Brienne. “You always ask so much of me.”, he contemplated. In her presence, he always felt a calling that he couldn’t explain, and it always left him feeling torn between something he yearned for and that safe place where he knew who he was.   

“I’ve never asked anything of you, Ser Jaime.” She avoided meeting his eyes pulling her knees to her chest. She suddenly felt so vulnerable and she hated it.

“But you have. And you do... Brienne. It’s just...a part of who you are. From the day we met, you...your very BEING asks things of me that I don’t know if I have in me to give.”

“I expect nothing you don’t have…”

“You don’t understand…”

“I think I understand very well.”

“What do you WANT from me, Brienne?”, he pleaded. “Who do you think I am? We walked the same road for a time, yes, but I’m STILL a Lannister. I’m still a lion amongst wolves. I might be a traitor but I will NOT march against my sister, my house! You ask too much!”

“I’ve told you in the past, I never asked you to betray your house.“ Brienne’s voice was soft and calm but she could feel herself start to shake. She knew where his frustration and anger was coming from. Jaime was still fighting a war with his heart. He might have made the decision to ride north but in very real ways, he was still in King’s Landing, walking the long halls of the Red Keep. Cersei and Tywin at his side, whispering into his ear. As much as she wanted to step in between them, she knew it wasn’t her place. 

“But you do, Brienne. You’ve never had to say the words but you ask all the same. Every time you look at me with, … with expectation. Every time you tell me about your oaths and your honour, you expect something of me as well. You ask everything of me, Brienne!” Jaime rubbed his temple and angrily pushed his hand through his hair. 

“It’s not about what I want. This is about what you want. And if I’m not mistaken, you already know. It’s why you’re here.” She knew she was treading on thin ice but he needed to see what she saw. A good man desperately fighting his past for a future he wanted. He was here, wasn’t he? Hadn’t he already made a choice?

The words fell heavy on Jaime. Gods, she was a stubborn, frustrating woman! How dare she imply she knew his mind? And what frustrated him most was the thought that she might be right.  Had he known all along what he wanted and everything she had become to him had just confirmed it? And if she was right, when had it started? The slow dawning resolution to escape the clutches of his sister? He didn’t love Cersei anymore, he knew that, he saw what she was, what Lady Olenna had warned him about. But everything he knew about himself was wrapped up in her and now she was ripped from his life. Who was Jaime Lannister without his sister? The full weight of his loss came crashing down on him. How did he think he could walk the line and never choose? He had been a fool! Unless he bent the knee and vowed to align himself with Daenerys to take down his house, he truly was a faceless man, alone and on a path to nowhere. 

He rose swiftly from the pool, splashing water everywhere and pulled his breeches on. He turned to leave when Brienne called to him. 

“Jaime, don’t go,....I...I didn’t mean to upset you. You’re here now and that’s all that matters…”

“Good night, Brienne.” Jaime cut her off and he strode out of the room. “Sing your songs to another sailor.”

***********

Jaime slept fitfully that night, his sleep interrupted by disturbing dreams. He was walking the long halls of The Red Keep but every time he turned a corner, he hit a dead end. No corridor seemed to lead him out and night was was approaching quickly. Soon, he was only guided by the torches on the walls but every shadow they threw grew twisted and dark and menacing. 

He was riding recklessly through the forest at a breakneck pace, chased by riders on the King’s Road. Riders with dead eyes and red cloaks. Despite how hard he rode, they gained on him until they caught up and threw him off his horse. Surrounded, they howled at him as the flesh fell away from their faces revealing a long snout and snarling teeth. He tried to grab for his sword, but he failed to hold it and looking down, he realized that he had lost his other hand as well. Jaime awoke with a start just as they descended on him.

He woke, heart pounding. He was cold, so cold, and he realized the furs had fallen off his bed. He got up and threw them around his shoulders, relighting the fire that had gone out. He paced the room. They were only dreams, stupid nightmares, he told himself as his heart calmed and sleep took over again. He climbed back into bed and pulled the furs around him. 

This time, the dream changed. It brought him to a forest grove. He looked up at the brilliant sun in the sapphire sky and it warmed his face. The grass was tall and emerald green and as he walked through the grove, his hands, both hands, felt the tips of the blades as he walked through it. And then Cersei was by his side. She was young and beautiful. Her golden hair shimmered in the sun. She wore a crimson dress with gold trim and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Cersei, you’re back.”

“No Jaime, my love, YOU are back. Back with me. And all will be well. I won’t let anything harm you every again.”

“I knew you’d have me. Gods, I’ve missed you.”

“Brother, we are bound to one another. There could never be anyone for me but you.”

“You knew I had to go, I had to fulfill my vow. Why didn’t you…”

“Shhhh.”, she took his hand in hers. “Come, lay with me.”, and she pulled him down into the long grass, kissing his face, his neck, his mouth, pulling his tunic off and untying his breeches. He felt himself harden at the sound of her whispers and the feel of her breath on his face. He felt warm and safe, and home. “Be with me, stay with me.”, she urged and she pulled him to herself, into herself and once again he felt the familiar ache of desire for his lover, his sister. He could never leave her again and whispered it into her ear.

“No, you won’t leave again. You will never leave me again.” Something about her voice sent a shiver through him. He looked into her eyes, but they had gone cold and he felt the piercing sting of cold metal sliding into his torso. “You are forever mine, my love.” Her eyes turned to wildfire green. She leapt into the air and flew away as if on dragon’s wings and the sky became dark, a storm sweeping over the once sun-filled sky. He felt the life draining from him and he pulled the knife from his chest and let it drop, red and sticky, into the long grass. He desperately searched the now darkened meadow for help. In the distance he saw a light, a bright light and it grew closer. He called for it, his voice fading in the thunderous storm that swept overhead. Rain beat down but the approaching light never wavered. He suddenly felt himself sinking into the grass, into the earth and he clawed at the ground to keep himself from falling.

“By all the Gods, help me! Please!”, he screamed at the light. It approached quicker and as it did, he realized it wasn’t one light, it was many, hundreds, thousands of tiny lights that broke apart and flew up into the night’s sky, banishing the clouds and rain. The night sky was suddenly clear and clean and a million stars shone brightly. The full moon appeared at the horizon, travelling quickly up into the sky above him, bright as a torch and as it shone down on him he slowly lifted from the sinking earth. The bleeding ceased and he touched the wound to find it healed. 

He was alone, lying in the meadow, bathed by the light of a silver moon when he heard a voice whisper into this ear. “Run!”

He looked up and saw the shadow of a dragon pass over the moon and knew it was Cersei, come back to claim him. He jumped to his feet and ran, following the voice to the edge of the clearing, throwing himself into a gathering of bushes as the dragon swooped down. 

“You can run now, but you can’t run forever.”, the voice whispered. He felt the hot breath of fire on his face and it singed the bushes around him, exposing him to the lidless green eye of the dragon. 

For the second time that night, Jaime woke with a start, his heart pounding out of his chest, but this time sweat poured down his face. All the fear of loss, all the desire for home, for his sister, for the love lost filled him and he gulped, gasping for air. He ran to the window, opened it to a blast of cold north air and the full moon shining bright above him. His breath slowed, his heated skin cooled and he gazed at the moon while an inexplicable sense of peace descended over him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taking me a little longer to finish off the chapters now. I had prewritten much of the last few chapters along with individual scenes that are to come but now I'm having to string them together, revise them and fill them out a bit more. 
> 
> I hope I'm still capturing them for the most part.  
> And I hope you enjoyed!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you completely blind or are you just faking it? You fancy her too. What happened on the way from Riverrun, exactly, hmmm?”, Tyrion sipped with a satisfied look on his face.
> 
> “Except losing my sword hand?”, he said angrily. “None of this is your concern.”
> 
> “Perhaps not. But if you’re looking for a reason to live, if you’re looking for a place and purpose, perhaps you don’t need to look as far as Essos.”
> 
> Tyrion gives Jaime a dose of reality.

Tyrion called Jaime to the Great Room the next morning. He walked down the tower stairs and through the many courtyard doors feeling a heavy weight on him. He hadn’t slept after the last dream. Pulling on his cloak he had wandered into the Godswood, hoping to banish the dreams. The cold beauty and peace of the small grove of trees, dominated by the great weirwood, has soothed his mind, but the sharp details of his dream still lingered. What added to his unrest was remembering how he had spoken to Brienne that night. He had been unfairly harsh with her when she had been a friend. Shame washed over him at the thought. He needed to speak to her.

Jaime turned a corner in the hallway, only to see Arya walking towards him from the door of the Great Room. He nodded at her as she passed, but her look of menace unsettled him.

“It doesn’t matter how many men you gather, Kingslayer, I’ll never trust you.” Her voice was low but clear.

Jaime stopped. Men? He looked to the partially opened door and then back at her. The Twins and Riverrun must have answered! Finally some good news!

“I would never expect that of you, My Lady.”

“And yet here you are, asking us to trust you all the same. Which is it, Kingslayer?”

Tired and defeated, he merely shrugged. “That really is up to you. I’m here to fulfill a promise...to a friend...and to the queen and your brother, and I mean to do just that. Whatever you think of me beyond that is not my concern.” She turned to leave but he called after her.

“Lady Arya, you were at the Twins. How could that be?”

She smiled wickedly. “I was there and I was not there. Don’t trust what you’re seeing is real. It’s only luck you left when you did.” Her tone sent a shiver through him. She turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner.

*********

Dany, Jon, Tyrion and Sansa were already there, waiting. He closed the door behind him.

“It seems as if you have some wiser friends in the Riverlands, Ser Jaime.” Dany held a note in her hand. She read aloud.

“ _Ser Jaime Lannister,_

_The Capitol has confirmed your news of the army that is approaching from the North. Queen Cersei has called Riverrun and the Twins to her aid, to fight along with the Golden Company should your armies, whichever armies, advance south. After some contemplation, the Lords have decided we’d like to meet them in the North, before they can inflict more damage. By the time you read this, 8,000 men will have started our march north. We should be there in 3 days time. We will stop at Greywater Watch and Moat Cailin should any willing men wish to join us._ ” It was signed, Lord Westerling.

Jaime smiled. “Good. These are good men. They’ll fight with you to the end.”

“It seems that we should thank you. You’ve kept your word...so far.”

“I AM here to help, your grace.”

Dany, Jon and Sansa stood up to leave but Jon stopped in front of Jaime. “We have had to make alliances with those we once thought were enemies. Perhaps you are one of them. The North thanks you.” He held out his left hand to shake Jaime’s and they both nodded.

Jaime also turned to leave, but Tyrion asked him to stay. He poured them both a glass of wine but Jaime declined.

Tyrion sat at the long table and as tired as Jaime was, he also declined to sit. He was anxious to find Brienne.

“How are you? You look like you’ve already been through a battle. Sleeping at all?” Tyrion picked through a tray of dried figs, olives and bread.

“As a matter of fact, not much.”

“What’s keeping you up? I mean...other than the dead army marching towards us.” He chewed on a fig and offered the plate to Jaime. He ignored it.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

Tyrion squinted at Jaime, examining the dark circles under his eyes. “You haven’t truly left her yet, have you, brother.” Tyrion was nothing if not direct. And Jaime knew exactly what Tyrion meant.

Jaime paced the room, walking to the window to stare out at the snow falling. “I don’t...I don’t...know. I thought I had...I thought I had left it all behind, but...I’ve been dreaming…”

“Dreams are fleeting. They feel real in the moment and then vanish like … snowflakes in your hand. You give her too much credit, you know. If you ever tried to go back, Cersei would kill you without hesitation. Our sister has never taken broken loyalties lightly, and I can’t remember a time she’s ever forgiven anyone for the smallest slight against her. Perhaps, being _you_ , she might make an exception, but do you really want to take that chance?” Tyrion sat at the long table too large for his small frame, but he occupied it as if he was born to be Hand of the Queen. It had always been the way Jaime remembered him. He might have made some wrong turns in life but they had always been for love. In all else, Tyrion was master of his domain. Always able to win wars of words and wit. Perhaps that’s why he had never fit into the family. Not because he was born a dwarf, but because he had never acquiesced to any of them.

“It’s not that I want to go back, she’s already threatened to kill me once, but what do I have left if I don’t have a family to defend?” Tyrion looked a little hurt at that, but he knew what Jaime was trying to say.

“The world is quickly changing, brother. There are no longer families, only alliances. It’s just us against them. And after the war is over, if any of us survive, we’ll have to pick up the pieces of our lives and live them how we feel is best. Perhaps make new alliances. You’ve already walked away from Cersei. You burnt that bridge when you rode north. You need to decide what’s ahead of you, not worry about what you’ve left behind. You already know that road and it seems as if you can’t walk it anymore. So….what’s left?”

“That’s it. I don’t know if there’s anything left for me. I can’t go south, I can’t stay here. There’s Essos and there’s the wall. Maybe I could find a nice cozy deserted island somewhere and find a good dog to keep me company.”

“And why can’t you stay here? You’re already here. It would be the easiest decision to make!”

“You know very well why I can’t stay here. She intends to take the throne.”, he motioned to the seat Dany had just occupied. “I can’t be a part of that.”

“You can’t or you won’t? Because you certainly can.”

“Tyrion….”

“She threatened to kill you! Does that not _mean_ anything? Cersei _does not_ love you! Cersei loves only power. Control. She could control you and when she couldn’t, she wanted to put you to death. So now you and I are equals. Equally hated.”

“So, what? We just kill off the family we don’t get along with, is that it? Is that really how you think? That makes us as bad as her!”, Jaime was clearly angry. He had never quite forgiven Tyrion for their father’s death, although, he quite understood it. “SHE IS OUR SISTER! Forget the fact that I may have loved her, she’s our sister and our blood! Our family! How can you even think of fighting against her?”

“Because she is more than willing, _eager_ in fact, to fight against us! She wants me dead more than father did!” Tyrion’s anger was rising as well and he sat up in his seat. “I tore myself to pieces after I killed father. You don’t think it ate away at me to the point where I wanted to just drown myself in wine and fall into the sea? I nearly did!”

“Yes, you have said that before, but…”

“But nothing! I did it because it meant him or it meant me! And I was wise enough to know the world was a better place with ME in it. Do I mourn him? Of course. Do I regret it? ….No. What I regret is how it affected the children. And you.” Tyrions’ face crumpled a bit at that. “But how can I keep punishing myself for that? What I did was find purpose again, and I have found that with the queen. Whatever you decide, Jaime, you will find purpose again too.”

Jaime only paced the room. His brother was nothing if not pragmatic. But he wasn’t Tyrion. If he did bend the knee, would he ever be able to forgive himself again?

“Maybe she’d surrender and hide away in Casterly Rock for the rest of her days. ”, Tyrion offered.

“Or maybe she’d burn us all to the ground at the first chance she got.”

“Well...“, Tyrion tipped his glass of wine to Jaime. “THAT is more likely. You could die by HER hand. Would that make you feel better?” Jaime gave him a cold look. Tyrion emptied his glass and poured himself another.

“What about Brienne?”, Tyrion asked.

“What about her?”, Jaime was annoyed that he had brought her up. Brienne was sacred. His own complication. He didn’t need anyone sticking their nose into it.

“It doesn’t take a genius to see the blossoming…”

“Stop right there. Enough. She is a friend, nothing more.”

“Bollocks. And you know it. Why fight it? She’s a very…. _strong_ women, I daresay she would make a man out of you, and it’s clear she fancies you.”

Jaime shot him a angry look. “That’s not...that’s...she doesn’t….”, he ran his hands through his hair.

“Are you _completely_ blind or are you just faking it? You fancy her too. What happened on the way from Riverrun, exactly, hmmm?”, Tyrion sipped with a satisfied look on his face.

“Except losing my sword hand?”, he said angrily. “None of this is your concern.”

“Perhaps not. But if you’re looking for a reason to live, if you’re looking for a place and purpose, perhaps you don’t need to look as far as Essos.”

That stopped him. Jaime sat down, rubbed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold wall. Why deny it? She pulled him like a river runs to the ocean. Could he could find a new life with her? How could she even want him? A man without honour? Jaime looked at Tyrion with tired eyes. “How do I truly leave Cersei behind?”

“You idiot. You obviously don’t see you already have! What you’re feeling are the last embers of a dying fire.” Jaime leaned over and rubbed his face in his hand. “Ask yourself this…if only one of them could make it through this war, who would you want it to be? Who can’t you live without?” Tyrion paused. “Better yet, for whom are you truly here for?” Jaime stopped rubbing his face and turned it towards his brother. Of course, he already knew the answer.

“Exactly.”, Tyrion replied with a small sad smile. “Don’t push that way.”

*********

She found him in the Gods Wood, standing in the softly falling snow, looking up at the majestic weirwood tree that dominated the clearing. She felt like she shouldn’t disturb him, knowing what was weighing on him. They hadn’t spoken since the night before in the baths, and she had worried about him, but now he had asked her to meet him so here she was. Would she always come when he called? Her footsteps made soft crunching sounds in the snow and Jaime eventually turned to her and smiled.

“Are you a religious woman?”, he asked. “I don’t even know that about you.”

She came to stand beside him and looked up at the tree as well. It was breathtaking. “My father worshiped the Seven and he raised me to do the same, but I can’t say that I’ve been at all faithful. I think...I think I’ve seen too much. Too much pain, too much injustice to think that there’s one god, never mind seven, looking out for us.”, she hesitated, “But I’ve also seen things lately that have made me wonder…”, her voice fell softly, “... things that should be impossible and yet are real. And when I’m here, in this place, it’s hard to feel cynical. There’s something about the old gods that … well, sometimes I feel a presence.” She blushed a bit at the admission. She wasn’t a sentimental woman, at least she had never shown that side of herself to anyone, but something about being in his presence made her want to share it now.

Jaime didn’t notice her blush. “I could see that. My family used the Seven to manipulate those under them. And then there were the Sparrows…”, he made a noise of disgust. “I’ve had a hard time believing anything beyond the here and now. But this…this is a different kind of thing. I came here last night. It’s peaceful. How can you not be reverent when looking up at this grand lady.” Silence fell for a moment. The tree seemed to respond as the wind came up and blew the leaves, whispering old secrets.

He turned to her, looking down at his feet, trying to come up with the right words. The reason he asked her to meet him. He knew he had to do the right thing by her but it wouldn’t be easy. His eyes lifted to hers, bright blue and wide. Waiting.

“I need to apologize, about last night…”

“Please Ser Jaime, there’s no need…”

“Yes, there _is_ a need. I was rude, and of course you were only trying to console me. I lashed out and that was...unbecoming of me. Please. Forgive me.”

“Of course I do.” He smiled and nodded. Of course she did. It was just her way.

“Brienne...and...I want you to know that I respect you. Immensely. And I would never want to do anything to hurt you, or to...disrespect you. I don’t know what came over me.” Even as he said it, he was fighting the need to take her into his arms and kiss her thoroughly. She was so beautiful standing in the softly falling snow.

Brienne, on the other hand, could only hear that she had been wrong. Whatever had come over Jaime yesterday wasn’t love. It was confusion and need and she had been a fool to think otherwise.

“I understand. Completely. You didn’t hurt me or disrespect me. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I need to go.” She turned swiftly, her cloak flowing behind her as she fled.

Jaime, stunned at her rapid retreat, called out to her. “Please, you don’t understand! Brienne, please stay!” She kept walking as if she hadn’t heard him. Her heart slowly breaking inside her.

“Dammit!”, he breathed. He ran after her and stopped her in her tracks. He held her by the shoulders and pleaded with her. “Please, just hear me out. Could you do that? For me? I’ve come all this way...”

She didn’t trust herself to speak so she only nodded. He could see the hurt and longing in her eyes. Her beautiful eyes that spoke more about her heart than she ever could.

He let his arms fall. “I made a decision to be here. To leave King’s Landing, to leave my sister. But King’s Landing…my sister…hasn’t left me. It’s not an easy thing to abandon your family…” he thought about Tyrion. About his life after leaving Westeros and eventually bending the knee to this new queen. Could he ever do the same?

“As much as I can now see Cersei for who she is, there is still a part of me who...grieves for her, at least … who I thought she was, or who I wanted her to be ... I don’t know … everything is …. so complicated. I just don’t know who I _am_ here.” He searched her eyes for understanding. Her heart ached for him and the terrible decision he had made. She waited and let him continue.

“Don’t misunderstand me, you of all people know why I’m here. I haven’t bent the knee for Daenerys and I don’t know if I will, but until I know, I will serve her and the Starks through the coming war. I promise you that. I just don’t know what happens … after.”

“I do understand, Ser Jaime.”, she said, and she meant it.

“Could you please…just call me Jaime…Brienne?” he smiled up at her luminous face. “Aren’t we friends by now?”

“Friends.”, she looked down at her feet and then back up at him. “I like to think so. Yes…Jaime.”, she smiled back sadly.

“Despite what I just said, Brienne…”, he hesitated, “…I…care for you. Deeply. More than I can understand right now. And I don’t know what to do about that.” He stepped closer and the air between them came alive. Their eyes locked and it seemed as though the wind had gone still. No one, nothing existed but them.

“This might sound mad but you understand me more than anyone ever has. Do you know that?” His voice softened. “You expose me. With a word you can lay me bare. And instead of running from you, I just want to...stay.” Her heart was pounding and his matched it. “Every time I’ve had to watch you leave, I’ve been left with this empty space that nothing seems to fill. I’ve … missed you.”, his voice caught in his throat. “I don’t know what that is, Brienne. I just know how I feel when I’m with you.” He reached up with his one good hand and softly stroked her cheek with his thumb. She went still, holding her breath. “Could you ever feel the same...a man like me…?”

It was a lot to reveal and he dropped his hand to his side and looked at the frozen ground, holding his breath. What if he had gotten it all wrong, what he saw in her eyes? As much as they had become friends, did she still think of him as a Kingslayer? Oathbreaker? Was she disgusted by his love for his sister? How could she ever love a man like him? He had just laid all his feelings out, as stark as the the red leaves on the new white snow. Cersei would have laughed at his vulnerability and the memory of it made his chest tighten.

“I....”, her voice faltered, not knowing if what she had just heard was real. _Jaime cared for her_. The thought took her breath away. How could he ever think that he wasn’t enough for her? How could he ever doubt that she could love him? That she already loved him? She looked away, hoping to find the courage to say what was on her heart. Fearless warrior, yet timid girl. He had the courage to speak his truth. How to break down her own wall? With fire-breathing dragons, it seemed.

She took a deep breath. “Jaime … I didn’t expose you, you showed yourself to me, trusted me with your secret. Entrusted me with your promises. YOU did that.”, she looked back at him, and he slowly raised his head and met her eyes. “You stopped a slaughter in King’s Landing and saved an entire city! You risked Cersei’s wrath to save Sansa and Arya. You faced down a dragon to protect your men. Broke loyalty to your family, to your sister, to help us with an impossible battle. You are the truest and bravest knight I know.” It took all her willpower to hold back her emotions as she saw his face break and tears prick his eyes. “You _must_ know how I feel … how I’ve felt since … since Harrenhal.” He exhaled and she realized he had been holding his breath. He looked down at their hands, pulling off his glove with his right arm, then hers and brought her hand to his lips.

“You leave me speechless…that’s not an easy thing to do.” He chuckled softly and she smiled. He wiped his damp eyes with the back of his right arm. What he would have given if Cersei had ever said these words to him. What she had given him were insults and threats.

“I want to be that kind of man, a man you could be proud of. I’m still a former knight. I’ve done things I’m not proud of for all the wrong reasons... I don’t know if I could ever be what you need.”

“You already are... _Ser_ Jaime.” Her eyes were intent. She wanted him to know it. He brought her head down to his and held his lips to her forehead for a long moment.

“I need time.” He chuckled again softly and looked up into her eyes. “And it’s the very last thing we have right now.”

“I know.”, she said softly. “Regardless of what happens, I’m glad you know.”

“Regardless of what happens. Yes. Although…”, he stepped away from her and held his wrist behind his back. “…I have no promises to make to you. It’s the most honest and least honourable thing I can say to you right now … I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to make any promises to me, Jaime, no solemn oaths.”, she smiled sadly.  “There is no future, no past … only now.” She timidly took a few steps towards him, not knowing why or how she was doing it, and closed the space. Surprised, he lifted his handless arm to rest on her waist. At times he could still feel his right hand flexing and tingling and he wished more than anything that it was there, right now, so he could hold her properly. She leaned her forehead against his, saw the lines and scars on his face, their mouths a breath away, and then she pressed her warm lips against his and held him there, hoping that all the love she felt for him, he felt in that soft meeting of lips. _Gods!_ , her heart would break wide open should this man ever leave her side now!

Jaime held her tight. Her lips were warm and soft and utterly compliant against his and he felt his need for her as clear as her blue eyes. Tyrion had been right. How could he ever walk away and feel the cold seep back into him? Her breath, her warmth flowed through him in a way he’d never felt. Life. That’s what it felt like. _A life._ He never wanted to leave this space. He felt his determination return. They would survive. He would find a way to her from his muddled head and heart. He would find a way to break from Cersei’s cold grasp. He would win this war for his heart. It was Brienne’s now, after all. It would always be hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it's not taking me quite as long to write as I thought. I feel inspired lately!  
> I especially love writing scenes with Jaime and Tyrion. I can almost hear their banter in my head. :)
> 
> I'd love to know what you think of it so far!  
> Thanks for all the kudos and for sticking with this!  
> It really is a slow burn.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every moment with Brienne now seemed to grow in importance. How much time had they wasted, never saying what was on their hearts? He ached at the thought of her leaving. He had watched her walk away too many times, his heart torn in two. Wanting to stay with Cersei, wanting to leave with Brienne. Just when he had told her what was on his heart, it seemed that nothing was certain in the end.
> 
> Bonus material in the end notes!

The courtyard was full of activity. Wagons of tar and pitch were lined up, waiting to be added to the reserves stockpiled on the castle walls. Secondary entrances to the castle and Great Keep were being barricaded and the clanging of the smithy could still be heard above it all. 

In the midst of this, Brienne, Sansa and Arya walked out onto the balcony and found Jaime sparring with a handful of young boys. To Brienne’s surprise and delight, a few girls had joined the training although a few older boys were standing off to the side either cheering or jeering. Children as young as 12 and 13 had expressed their desire to fight despite the protests of their parents, and of course, Dany had protested as well. She didn’t free the slaves of Essos only to arrive in Westeros and have children, once again, fighting the battles of their elders. But Jon had argued with her that all who wanted to fight should have the chance. No child would set foot on the front lines, but stay behind castle walls. But should the walls be breached and there was need to defend themselves or their families, they would be trained to do so but only if they showed strength and some skill with a blade. 

When Jon had asked him to train the children, Jaime had been only too glad to be of use, and if the children were to fight, he wanted to make sure they were prepared. Dany, eventually, relented and to Brienne it looked like Jaime was enjoying every minute of it. As serious as the situation was, he was having some fun with the children, hoping to instill a little encouragement. Afterall, half the skill of fighting was confidence.

Sansa and Arya stopped to watch Jaime laughing and ducking the blows from the children, and looked to each other with confusion. Brienne, on the other hand, watched Jaime with undisguised admiration.

“What did you do to him?”, Sansa turned to Brienne, mystified and somewhat amused.

“What do you mean? When? I’ve done nothing to him!”, she looked away, hoping Sansa wouldn’t see her discomfort. Sansa lifted an eyebrow but turned back to watch Jaime invite a particularly confident young girl to spar. Arya only studied him more closely. 

They were fighting a particular kind of opponent and Jaime was showing the children the basics of sparing with a dagger. Their stature might even give them an advantage if they practiced ducking, rolling and stabbing the lower leg, thigh or upwards into the groin. Staying as far away from their opponent’s blade as possible. They practiced the moves over and over, the children lined up and tumbling forwards and back again, jabbing with their blunted wooden blades.

“Ooof!”, Jaime held his side after the young girl rolled right up to him, flew up onto her feet and jabbed Jaime in the side with a loud  _ Thunk! _ on the leather training vest. “You’ve wounded me!”, and he fell down on the ground, feigning a long, painful death much to the delight of the girl, who fell into giggles.

“You did  _ something _ …”, Sansa said, shaking her head.

Jaime saw Brienne at that moment and called out for help. “Lady Brienne! Warrior of Tarth! Save me from this merciless child! She has bested me and I feel death approaching!” And with that, he gave up his struggles and fell silent and still. The children giggled all the more. 

“Well?” Sansa, smiling knowingly, motioning for Brienne to descend the stairs of the balcony while she and Arya continued on.

Brienne could not help but laugh.  _ He would have been a wonderful father, had his children only known _ , she thought. 

The girl walked over to Jaime’s still body and poked him with her dagger. He sprang to life, grabbing the girl’s hand that held the dagger. With a smile, he instructed her, “Never walk up to a body that you’ve stabbed. Leave it be and watch for any other attackers nearby. That was very good! You’ll make a fine lady warrior one day. Just like Lady Brienne here. Now go...keep practicing!” His face held a smile, but he was deadly serious and she nodded and went back to practicing her rolls and strikes. 

Brienne gave Jaime a hand up from the ground. “You’re doing a fine job with them. I’m not sure any of them should be fighting though. How are they going to find their bravery when faced with what we know is coming?” Just seeing the dead would be enough to induce nightmares, never mind facing it in battle. 

“I know. But they might just surprise us. That one there, especially.” He looked over to where the girl was sparring with a boy the same age as her and was gaining on him. “She reminds me of what you might have been like as a child. Stubborn and strong. And too brave for her own good.”, he teased.

“I started training when I was much older than her. She might just best me yet.”, Brienne smiled and Jaime held her eyes for a moment. To Jaime’s amusement, Brienne blushed and ducked her head. Remembering the Godswood from the day before, desire flooded him and he yearned to touch her. Stroke her cheek. Hold her in his arms. But he had made a promise to himself that he would find some space and time, as much as the current situation would allow, to grieve for his home and sister and do his best to move past it. He promised himself Brienne would not be touched by Cersei’s poison. But, being in such close proximity with Brienne made that promise difficult to keep. 

Just then, Tyrion appeared from around the corner. Dany and Jon had called a meeting of all the houses and Brienne and Jaime were expected to be there. They followed Tyrion to the Great Hall as Jaime’s fingers slipped into Brienne’s hand, squeezed and quickly let go. 

***********

The Great Room was full to capacity. Lords of most northern houses were present, along with the Starks, Dany’s entourage and Jon’s men. The room quieted somewhat as Jaime entered, followed by Brienne. Feeling conspicuous, they found a place to stand at the back. 

Jon stood up to speak. “We’ve received a hurried message from Karstark Castle. It seems they had time to send out a raven before the castle fell. The Knight King and his army have destroyed it.” The room erupted in sound. Brienne looked to Jaime with apprehension and fear. It wouldn’t be long now. 

Jon continued. “This only means that they have also destroyed Last Hearth, although we received no raven from the Umbers.” Again, the room filled with murmurs. “We can spare no time in preparing. I want the fire ring completed by tomorrow. Food and provisions are being brought down to the crypts. Ser Davos and Varys will be in charge of any remaining woman, children and elderly not fighting. They’ll use the crypts to hide and the tunnels to escape if we need to.  _ If _ Winterfell should fall…”, Jon looked to Dany and then around the room at his bannermen. His face was grave. “...they will travel to White Harbour and on to the Eyrie. You have the choice to either retreat to White Harbour or remain and follow the army. Our prediction is that they will head straight south, through the neck and on to King’s Landing.”

Jaime bowed his head at that. Calling the Riverlands to the north had ensured the Twins and Riverrun would be empty of military forces. Only women and children and a skeleton crew would remain. The Knight King and his army would walk right through and head straight to King’s Landing. And Cersei. Where they would be met with the Golden Company and the Iron fleet. But would they be enough? If he knew his sister, and he believed he did, she would have a backup plan. She was expecting them. She had told him as much the last time he saw her. The day he walked out of King’s Landing and out of his Cersei’s life. He had always been there to protect her and now she had Euron Greyjoy. The thought filled him with loathing. 

“Prepare your men. The north will be ready!” Jon’s booming voice brought him out of his thoughts.

One by one, the lords of the houses of the north stepped forward.

“House Glover is ready!”

“House Hornwood is ready!”

“House Flint is ready!”

Until every last person was on their feet, raising their swords in unison, shaking the room with their cry. “The north is ready!” 

***********

The evening meal that night was raucous. The Great Hall was filled to capacity and a large feast had been prepared. There was no music or entertainment that night, as would be the case at most feasts, but the room vibrated with energy and noise nonetheless. 

Jaime sat at a table off to the side, mostly ignored by the others sitting there, although he did receive his share of stares and snickers. He ate his meal quietly, avoiding them as well, but secretly searching the room for Brienne. She was nowhere to be seen. Sansa was also missing at the moment, whom he suspected, Brienne would be with. 

“So, Kingslayer, here to fight the battle one-handed, eh?” A rather large man with a thick, full beard and bad teeth called to him from down the table. “Where’s your white cloak? Did you leave it behind in your sister’s bedchamber?” The table of men erupted in laughter, slamming their mugs of ale on the wooden table. 

“Actually, I left it behind in your mother’s.”, Jaime said, taunting.  “She wanted to keep something of a real warrior since she’d never met one.” That sent the table into a riot of laughter, the large man’s companions shoving him playfully, while he sat and fumed, staring daggers at Jaime. 

“Nevermind him.”, one grey-haired man who sat opposite him said. “I’ve caught him in the sheep’s pen one too many times for anyone’s liking.” The table erupted in laughter again. Jaime turned one corner of his mouth up at that, but resumed his meal. 

“Robett Glover.” He stuck out his hand to shake Jaime’s. “So, you were there, weren’t ya?”, he continued on, slicing off a large chunk of meat from his plate.

“There?”

“King’s Landing. When King Jon brought back a wight to show the queen. You saw, it eh?”

“Yeah, I saw it.”

“And? I assume that’s why you’re here.”, he said, chewing vigorously.

“Yes. Why else?”

“Hmmmm. So? Tell us about it. We need to know what we’re facing.” 

“What do you want to know? It was a dead man. But alive. And angry. And it wanted to tear us apart.” The entire table was quiet, listening to Jaime’s account. “Clegane cut it in half. Snow cut it to pieces and it kept coming at us, crawling on the ground.”

“King Jon had to light it afire, eh?” 

“He killed it with dragonglass.”

Glover shook his head. “There were stories from the time I was a wee lad, of white walkers and ghosties in the woods north. I never quite believed it, but the stories kept coming back to us from the wall. At first we thought mayhap those that had taken the black had gone mad with cold and isolation.”

“And no wenches!”, one man grabbed his crotch setting the table to laughter again.

“But the stories never stopped. I had an uncle at the wall who said he saw them on a night raid. Killed half the party before he made it back alive. Never was the same after that. It was hard to know what to believe.” Glover bit off a mouthful of bread and chewed.  “Never in all my long days did I ever think we’d have to defend our homes from a children’s storybook. I have to say, I wasn’t pleased King Jon left the north. But he came back with a shipload of dragonglass, arming every man in the north. It might just be what saves us.”

“He also came back with a Targaryen! And dragons!”, another man piped up.

“Hmmmm. Right out of the storybooks.” Glover sopped up the gravy on his plate with his bread and pointed it at Jaime. “The daughter of the Mad King.”, he looked pointedly at Jaime. “I heard you had words.”

“We spoke, yes.”

“I heard you faced her on the battlefield!”

“Yes. I’d really rather not discuss that.”

“But what do you think of her?”

“Truly?”, he glanced at Dany in deep discussion with Jon at the long table. “I really don’t know what to think of her. She is a force to be reckoned with.” 

“Aye!” Glover nodded, swallowing his bread. “Then it’s a good thing she’s on our side, eh?” he pounded his ale on the table. “And you too!”, he raised his ale in Jaime’s direction. That took him aback and he raised his ale, looking down the table at all the men raising their mugs at Glover.

“To the north! May we prevail!”

A movement at the far side of the room caught Jaime’s attention as the rest of the men at his table moved on to discussions of dragons. Sansa entered the Great Room, followed by Brienne. They were greeted by Lords of the north, standing and acknowledging the Lady of House Stark. Brienne, smiled politely, hands behind her back, but her smile quickly faded after Sansa squeezed Brienne’s arm and took her place at the long table. Brienne found a place to sit close by and a kitchen maid quickly brought her food. Jaime caught her eye for only a brief moment before she looked down and set to eating. Something was wrong. 

***********

Late that night, Jaime found Brienne on guard duty along the northern wall, fur lined cloak pulled tightly around her broad chest, her armour glinting beneath. Snow had fallen and covered her shoulders and her hair so that it sparkled in the few torches that lit the battlements. She was looking out over the wall and to the woods beyond, a grim expression on her face, lost in thought.

He stepped up to the wall beside her and she started at his approach. “Am I disturbing you?”

“Not at all.”, she looked out onto the vast frozen expanse. “As you can see there’s not much to watch. Right now, at least.”

“You just looked very far away.” He pulled his cloak a little tighter around him.  _ Would he ever get used to this cold?  _ The northmen must have grown a second layer of skin. Their weathered faces could stare down a cold north wind like it was a breeze off the Summer Sea and they rarely showed signs of chill. Jaime could never seem to find any level of comfort unless he was training in the courtyard or in his room with a roaring fire. 

“Tyrion just told me the news from Bran.”, he said, blowing warm air into this hand. He had grabbed Jaime just after the feast and pulled him into his room. With the northern lords arriving with all their men, Tyrion had wanted to update Jaime on tactics and preparations. Winterfell was full to capacity and the lands to the south were dotted with tents and flickering campfires as far as the eye could see, but instead of the rowdy rumblings of an army preparing for battle, the night was quiet and still. 

Jaime thought of the Twins and Riverrun and the Lannister and Tully bannermen that were now riding north. He only hoped they arrived in time.

“Yes.”, she said solemnly. “Their guess is three days. It doesn’t seem long enough. It’s difficult to know how to prepare for something like this.” 

“Tyrion and Jon seem to think that we’re prepared as much as we possibly can be. I think we will be leaning heavily on those blasted Targaryen dragons of hers.”

“Those  _ blasted _ dragons might be the only thing that gets us through this.” Brienne stomped her feet to clear the snow off her boots, clearly agitated.

He watched her face but she avoided meeting his eye.

“What is it, Brienne? There’s something else that’s got you all tied up tonight.”

She shook her head, staring back out into the darkness. “I received a raven today. From Tarth.”

“Your father.”

“Yes. My father.” She hadn’t spoken to Lord Selwyn Tarth since she had left all those years ago, to take up the Kingsguard for Renly. As much as her father had finally given in and agreed to her leaving, she had left on difficult terms, her being his last living heir. He felt she was abandoning her family for the young stag who would never be king, but she knew she could never reside over Tarth as it’s Lady. It’s not what she was born to do. Still, she had missed him, and hoped her raven had reached him in time. She had felt her need to say her goodbyes. There was a possibility that the next battle would be her last. 

“He wants me to return to Tarth. He’s fallen ill.” He had demanded, in fact, that she return to Tarth, immediately. His health was failing fast and he was afraid for the future of their house if anything should happen to her in the north. Brienne, whether she married or not, was his last hope. He knew she wasn’t born to be the Lady he has always hoped she would be, but he knew she could be a strong and fair ruler, inexperienced as she was. He had a handful of excellent advisors that could help her through the first few years, he had assured her. In the end, he had almost pleaded with her to return, asking in the name of her lady mother, long past, her two younger sisters and younger brother who had all died at a young age. And therein lay her guilt and her indecision. She had said her goodbyes to her family long ago, but the call to continue their legacy remained.

“And what of your oath to Lady Sansa?”

“Lady Sansa has given me her word she would release me from my oath, if I decide I need to leave.”

“Ah. That’s...good of her.”

“Yes.” 

Jaime’s stomach twisted at the thought of Brienne leaving. He knew well the pull of family and ravages of divided loyalties. He had tried to remain loyal to his family through all the treachery and wars, the broken alliances, plots and schemes, nearly past his breaking point, but in the end he had chosen and now lived with the painful consequences. He knew Brienne’s honour ran just as deep, as long and deep as the rivers underground. They had both been loyal to others, giving their lives to the service of others with no thought to what they each wanted. Her life was the Stark sisters’ and had been the moment she had sworn that bloody oath to Lady Catelyn. But a call to hearth and home was heady stuff. Where would her honour lead her? What would be her breaking point? Whatever her decision, he knew there would be no swaying her from it once she had decided.

“You would be a good leader for your people.” Brienne looked a bit shocked at that and made a face as she brushed the snow from her cloak.

“Title and lands, Lady Brienne! Don’t turn your nose up at that! You could...prance around in Dornish silk and order around the young squires! Come on, you’d love that! It’s better than standing guard here on this frozen wall, in this frozen land. I bet Tarth is lovely this time of year!”, he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

She gave him a pointed look. “You mean, like you’ve given up titles and land? Regretting it? Giving up Casterly Rock?”

“I don’t regret the decisions I’ve made.” His smile quickly faded and the sadness on his face made her wonder if that was true. Did he  _ want _ her to take up her father’s place? It would release him from any obligation to her, promised or not. Did he regret his words to her in the Godswood? Her heart dropped at the thought. 

“I serve and I fight, Jaime, that’s what I do. Just as you do. You should understand that.”

“I do understand. But you might have noticed that Westeros is in need of good leaders.”

“How do you even know I’d be a good leader? I have no experience, nevermind any  _ desire _ to lead.”

“I  _ know _ because…”, his eyebrows flicked up, the way they did when the jesting was over and he was about to be honest with her, “...because you are the truest person I know. You would lead with honour and justice. And you would be committed to your people. It’s who you are.” His eyes never wavered from hers and his admiration shone clearly. Brienne swallowed, trying to clear the lump that had quickly grown in her throat. If he admired her so much, why did it feel like he was pushing her away?

“Thank you.”, she looked back out into the great black expanse. “I just might have to. I don’t know if I can disappoint my father. Again.”

Jaime nodded. She didn’t have to explain her indecision to him, he knew it well. “And so what do you do now, Lady Brienne of the Sapphire Isle?” He smiled sadly at her and took her hand in his. It was hard to hide his fear at the thought of losing her now.  _ How would he let her go? How could he possibly keep her with him? _

She felt the sadness in him. He was merely giving her the freedom to choose, and her love for him swelled, along with her indecision. She clenched her jaw at that stubborn angle he knew so well, and she looked into his green eyes. “I will fight this war. And if I survive, I will have a decision to make. Same as you.”, she said solemnly. “Remember, there is no future beyond this moment. Not yet.”  _ An impossible decision _ , she thought.  _ Curse her heart! Life was simpler when it wasn’t pulled in opposing directions. How could she have let his happen? _

Just then a Stark guard made his way up the stairs and onto the wall walk to relieve Brienne from her post. The night had grown colder and bitter and she was happy to be heading back to the quiet of her room where dinner and bed awaited her. 

“My Lady?”, Jaime motioned for her to lead the way down the stairs, and they walked silently side by side through the long passages that led past the kennels and out into the courtyard. The armoury and blacksmith were still a hive of activity, reworking the shards of dragonglass into daggers and knives.

From somewhere in the courtyard, or perhaps from on top of the walls, the soft strains of a cittern floated out from the night. Someone had decided the quiet night of waiting too deafening and was filling the void with an sad old traditional song that Jaime recognized, “On a Misty Morn.”  _ A bit of a ill omen _ , he thought as the words came back to him.

 

_ Oh, have you seen my boy, good ser? _

_ His hair is chestnut brown _

_ He'd promised he'd come back to me _

_ Our home's in Wendish Town. _

 

They turned a corner that lead to the First Keep and their rooms, but Jaime caught Brienne’s arm and stopped her. 

“Dance with me?”

He wasn’t surprised at the look of horror on her face. He assumed she hadn’t many opportunities to dance lately, but with death soon at their doorsteps, they may never have another chance.

“What? I...I...I don’t dance, Jaime.” she stammered. 

“Surely you must have learned a little as a young girl.”

“Of course, but...but I’m not really that good, I really can’t…”

“Come now. There’s really not a lot to it. See?”, and he wrapped his arm with the golden hand around her back, taking her hand in his other and pulled her as close as her armour and their cloaks would allow. Still, he felt her warmth as he led her in a slow sway, back and forth. After a moment of awkwardness, she fell into his rhythm and relaxed in his arms.

“You see?”, he breathed, his face inches from hers. He pulled her closer so he could whisper into her ear. “Now you have it.” Holding her against his chest, they moved in time to the strains of music. Every moment with Brienne now seemed to grow in importance. How much time had they wasted, never saying what was on their hearts? He ached at the thought of her leaving. He had watched her walk away too many times, his heart torn in two. Wanting to stay with Cersei, wanting to leave with Brienne. Just when he had told her what was on his heart, it seemed that nothing was certain in the end.

Brienne’s heart was pounding right through her leather jerkin, right through her armour and cloak, she was sure of it. Still not used to having any man this close, least of all Jaime, it was still a new sensation that made her shiver. She remembered how good it felt to kiss him in the Godswood and she yearned for more. She could feel his breath on her cheek and she closed her eyes, rested her head against his and let herself imagine that she had the courage to do it again. But that familiar fear of rejection crept in, and she dared not, lest this moment end.

Another shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with the cold, but Jaime took it as a sign to seek warmth so he pulled away from their embrace and she regretfully followed him into the keep and down the dark passage to their rooms. They stopped at his door and she bid him goodnight before she turned to her own.

“Are you hungry?”, he asked her, unexpectedly. “You must be after a evening out on the wall. I had the kitchen girl send up leftovers from the feast before I found you. Share it with me?”

Her heart leapt at the opportunity to spend more time in his company, but she felt weary and her mind had been preoccupied with her father’s letter. She had been looking forward to a quiet night in her room to contemplate. The look in his eyes though, full of hope and expectation...how could she say no? She wanted to stay.

“Yes, alright. I  _ am _ hungry.”, and the thought of food made her stomach growl. She hadn’t much to eat at dinner. “Let me change out of my armour. I’ll be quick.” She pulled her father’s letter out of her cloak, laying it on the table in her room and rested her hand on it.  _ Another night, father.  _ She quickly pulled her armour off, fumbling with the buckles.  _ What was she doing? _

Walking back to Jaime’s room, she looked down the corridors to see if anyone would notice her. Rumours flew like ravens in such cramped quarters. They were empty this late at night and so she knocked on his door and she heard a soft, “Come!”. 

A fire had been lit and the table held a large tray of mead, bread, cheeses, olives from Dorne and sweetbreads that castle cooks had been baking all day for the feast. The smell of them had wafted through the hallways.

Brienne closed the door and leaned against it not knowing what to do with herself now that she was here. Jaime added more wood to the fire and he poured himself a drink, offering her one. Brienne had never been one to drink much wine or ale but she did know the warmth it could bring and so accepted it gladly and took a small sip. The mead was sweet and it went down easily.

They ate together, quietly at first, and then he asked her about life on the island of Tarth. She talked about her brother,  Galladon, who drowned when she was eight and whom she still missed. Her two younger sisters had both died as infants and her mother who had passed when Brienne was so young, she had no memories of her, save the ones that her father and Septa Roelle had told her over and over again that she felt she had formed her own memories of her. When it was obvious that she did not have the grace of a lady and spent far too much time with the knights in the armoury, the Master-at-Arms, Ser Goodwin, had taken it upon himself to train her as a knight. Or the equivalency of. It had been obvious to all that was where her strength lay. After three broken engagements, many arguments, and several broken suitor’s bones on Brienne’s part, Lord Selwyn had sent her to Storm’s End, to fight for Renly. 

“So, not such a happy childhood.”, Jaime mused. 

She felt herself fall under the effects of the mead. Her tongue loosened, and her muscles relaxed. 

“I was happy with a sword in my hand and that’s thanks to Ser Goodwin. He saw in me what my father refused to. I guess I am what I am today because of them both, to be honest.” 

“And they should both be proud.” She blushed slightly at that and it warmed him to be able to bestow the compliment. He was sure she hadn’t many in her life. She had been the recipient of too many cruel jibes. Too many of them from him. 

Jaime pushed the rest of the food away and stood up. He felt restless.  His arm ached with the weight of his gold hand and he pulled it off letting it fall heavily on the table.  _ Why do I keep wearing this wretched thing? _ , he asked himself. There was no reason for it, other than his own foolish pride. Everyone knew he had lost his hand but he couldn’t yet see the stares and look of affirmation in their eyes.  _ The Golden Knight is no more. _

He rubbed his stump and started to undress the bindings. He had gotten used to doing this with one hand, but it must have still looked awkward because Brienne stepped forward and without a word, started to unwrap the straps around his arm. It was nothing a squire wouldn’t have done for their knight, but with Brienne so near, seeing her head bent over the task, breathing in the smell of her hair, her touch so gentle, it felt like an intimate act. Something a wife would have done for her husband. Or a lady for her lover.

“Brienne…” He put his hand over hers. His voice was raspy with emotion and only a whisper. “If you keep that up, then the Seven help me, I’m going to beg you to stay.” Her hands stopped and she went still, looking up into his green eyes.

“Stay?”, she whispered. Her heart started thudding in her chest.  _ What did he mean? Stay in Winterfell and not return to Tarth? Or could he mean... _

“With me. Tonight. There is nothing in all the Seven Kingdoms I want more right now.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb and the heat from his gaze froze her on the spot. She closed her eyes and let the feeling carry her. She brought her hand up to his, covering it. Her head was spinning with the mead and the feeling of his touch. He saw her soften into him and he knew his resolve was weakening. He closed his eyes, summoning the strength he needed. “But... I made a promise I intend to keep.” 

Brienne’s eyes flew open and she stepped away, not trusting herself to speak but every nerve in her body was on fire. Blood rushed through her muddled head. If she opened her mouth she didn’t trust what she might say.

She turned to leave but he took her hand and brought it up to his lips, lingering for a moment, his eyes begging her to understand how hard it was to let her go. “Goodnight Brienne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I've done a few fan videos as well. :) I discovered this song today that I thought was perfect and pulled it together really quickly. It's one of my simpler ones. Hope you like it!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rScqKGNWFe0&feature=youtu.be
> 
> I really hope the story is holding up!  
> Let me know what you think. :)  
> Thanks so much for your kudos and for reading on!
> 
> J&B forever <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he reached the top, he stopped and took in the room...the room that had set him on a course he could never have predicted. It was dimly lit creating shadows everywhere. Snow gathered in the corners and dusted the timbers and broken stones that littered the floor. The vines that covered the walls were now dry and leafless. He ran his hands along the cold, dusty stone walls as he entered the room. The day had been dull and cloudy, but he remembered their happiness. Their times alone had always been brief but bright. Did he miss her, his sister, his lover? He had been pushing away his memories of her, afraid they would once again take over his senses, afraid to feel that longing for her. But now he explored them, tested them. Let them slowly absorb into him.

Jaime woke in the early hours of the morning, a heaviness weighing on him from a dream he couldn’t remember. He only felt Cersei’s presence, her rage and her malice, so much so that it felt like she was somewhere in the room with him. Their connection had been so strong when they had been younger that at times he remembered feeling her joy or her anger, even separated from across the castle. He wondered if that connection was still there. If so, her rage with him was reaching across miles of land and snow...and it was chilling.

Brienne had been in his dream as well. He could feel her reaching out to him as well, calling to him. Reassuring him. He had searched for her, but she had always been just beyond his reach. It had left him with a feeling of frustration and desperation.

He pulled himself out of bed, relit the fire and opened his window to the darkness just before first light. The silhouette of the broken tower was a dark shadow against the early morning sky. It’s the one place he had been avoiding since arriving at Winterfell. The memory of that day had been too disturbing. But it had haunted him for too long, and as much as he had tried to push it down, he knew he would have to face it eventually. Just one more foe to conquer. With the castle quiet and still in the early hours of the morning, he pulled on clothes, wrapped a fur around him and left his room.

The door to the tower opened with a groan, and he looked up as birds flew out from the top. He slowly started his ascent. Lit by a dim moon, the memories came flooding back...Cersei’s laughter as they quickly climbed the stairs, need and desire driving them both. Halfway up, he had stopped her on the stairs and covered her mouth with his, crushing her lips, his hands pulling her dress up and finding her ready for him. He knew the risks they took had ignited their desire for each other. Stolen moments. It was dangerous. But Cersei had always loved the danger. She was the danger. He knew that now.

When he reached the top, he stopped and took in the room...the room that had set him on a course he could never have predicted. It was dimly lit creating shadows everywhere. Snow gathered in the corners and dusted the timbers and broken stones that littered the floor. The vines that covered the walls were now dry and leafless. He ran his hands along the cold, dusty stone walls as he entered the room. The day had been dull and cloudy, but he remembered their happiness. Their times alone had always been brief but bright. Did he miss her, his sister, his lover? He had been pushing away his memories of her, afraid they would once again take over his senses, afraid to feel that longing for her. But now he explored them, tested them. Let it slowly absorb into him. In his mind, there were two Cersei’s. The one that he had thought she was, his dream of her, his hopes for a future with her. That Cersei felt unreal, paper thin, like with a breath of air, she would dissolve and blow apart. That Cersei had never been real. Then there was the Cersei he now knew she was. The Cersei who had slowly pushed him away, disgusted at his severed limb. The Cersei who had blamed him for his imprisonment and showed disdain at his need for her. The Cersei whose grief had slowly sunk her into madness as she grasped for control. She had never loved him like he had loved her. There had always been a motive, a plan, the next move towards power. That’s what her heart had truly loved. He had been a loyal and blind follower in her quest. Keeping him at a distance...far enough away to never lose control, just close enough to fuck and give him hope. Never giving him what he truly desired. Her unequivocal love.

And this is where it had started, in this room, with one cruel choice the slow and painful untangling of their lives had begun.

Jaime stopped in front of the window and ran his hands along the ledge. He closed his eyes and saw the face of a young Bran, eyes full of fear and confusion, and then saw them turn to terror a second after he pushed him. What he did for love, indeed. Not even that had bought him the love he so desperately wanted. Shame filled him. _What kind of man am I?_ , he thought, _that he would trade the life of an innocent boy for the tepid love of a hateful woman?_ Was he still that man? Could he ever be anything more than that? Would his sins forever stain him and in turn, stain Brienne? Could he ever put this ghost to rest and be the kind of man he wanted to be? For himself and for her? She deserved so much more than he was.

The first flicker of light showed above the tips of the woods beyond and Jaime sat watching the sun slowly fill the room. Brienne had brought the first rays of hope to his dark life. In her infinitely stubborn way, she had shown him what a life of honour could feel like. What true loyalty was, not just to another person but to yourself. She had never once compromised what she knew was right. That kind of devotion didn’t come from blind loyalty to a cause. It came from within her. And with her, he had started to feel like the man he always wanted to be. A man of honour. He had a sudden longing to see her face. Hear her voice. Reassure himself that she was real and solid and still in his life. He ran down the winding stairs, leaving the past and the Cersei of his dreams behind him. Maybe there was a chance he could be that man for Brienne.

***********

Jaime pounded on Tyrion’s door. No answer. He pounded again and the door flew open.

“Good Gods, what is it?”, Tyrion saw the worried look on Jaime’s face. “Wait. What IS it?”

“Do you know where Brienne is? She’s nowhere in this bloody castle that I can see.”

“Ah. Yes. Why don’t you come in?”, Tyrion held the door for him. Jaime did not like the sound of this. “Wine?”

“No thank you. How can you start so early?”

“How can you not?”

“Tyrion, please. Where is Brienne?” Tyrion sat down at his desk and looked Jaime in the eye.

“You can’t find Brienne in the castle because she’s not IN the castle. Brienne left early this morning to ride north with...”

“She did WHAT!??” Jaime’s eyes widened with shock. “Why?? How could you let her just ride off...”

“LET her! Are you joking? Do you understand who we’re talking about? That woman does what she wants and the seven hells to whomever gets in her way.” Tyrion took a sip of wine and smiled. “I have to tell you, I quite like her. A little serious for my liking but…”

“Tyrion…!”

“Ok!”, his smile vanished. “Let me explain. She’s with Tormund Giantsbane and …”

“Who the fuck is he?”

“He’s the leader of the wildings. Please Jaime, let me finish! Tormund and Berric Dondarrion…”

“Berric Dondarrion? From the _Brotherhood_? A band of outlaws…!?”

“Yes! Both good men. Both more than able to defend themselves and her if anything should happen.”

“Anything should happen?!” Jaime brought his one good arm down hard on Tyrion’s desk. “What the hells are they doing riding north straight into the Army of the Dead?”

“Would you stop repeating me and listen! They are rescuing a wildling encampment. Tormund and Berric were at the wall, at Eastwatch, when the wall came down. They were able to escape and have been making their way south, scouting the lands for wildings that Tormund knows have set up camp. They came across one camp, larger than they were able to take with them. It’s mostly women and children and they need help. They have no horses, no wagons. Tormund stayed with them and Berric rode back to gather men and wagons. Brienne volunteered to go.”

“Why the hells would she do that!?”, Jaime was pacing now and running his hands through his hair. Terror had gripped him, twisting his stomach. “They can’t possibly think they could protect themselves against an army of 100,000! Against those...things! AND a dragon!”

“She did it because she can. You know her better than I do. She seems rather capable, don’t you? As good a warrior as I’ve ever seen. Well, maybe not The Mountain…” he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “And thanks to you, she’s well equipped to deal with any wights should they come upon them.”

Jaime was shaking his head. “It’s not enough. It’s not enough!! She cannot protect herself against a bloody dragon!!” The scorched smell of men and horses came back to him, making him feel ill.

“Look, the encampment is only half a day’s ride from here. I don’t believe they’re going to run into the army and if all goes well, they should be back by this afternoon.”

“I’m going after her.” Jaime strode to the door and threw it open.

“Jaime!” Tyrion shouted. “They left in the middle of the night! There’s no way you’re going to catch up with them, or find the camp yourself! You don’t know the north! You’d get lost as soon as you entered the treeline!”

“I don’t care. I can’t wait here all day!” Tyrion ran to the door and blocked the way. Speaking slowly, he tried to talk sense into his brother.

“The best thing you can do right now is to save yourself. If you got lost and died out there your purpose for being here would have been for nothing! Stay here, help us prepare. She will be back this afternoon. Please.” Tyrion pleaded.

Jaime’s fist tightened, his mouth a hard line.

“She wouldn’t want you risking your life for hers.” Jaime’s anger cracked just a bit, his eyebrows knit together in worry. “She asked me to give you something. Come with me.”

***********

Tyrion led Jaime across the courtyard to the smithy, nodding to a blacksmith hammering on a red hot sword. He ducked into the back and re-emerged with a package wrapped in leather. The blacksmith handed it to Tyrion who held it out to Jaime. He looked at it quizzically and unfolded the leather to reveal a long sleeve made of hard, boiled leather with a sheath at the end of it. Tyrion pulled it off to reveal a dragonglass blade, polished to a high shine so it glittered in the sunlight. It’s edge was fashioned into a slight curve.

Wrapped around the blade was a note from Brienne. “ _In saving me, you lost your sword hand. I’ll never be able to repay that, but hopefully this might help. B_ ”

Jaime looked at it with astonishment and then looked up into Tyrion’s face, whose held a similar expression.

“All she told me was that she hoped it would fit. She didn’t tell me what it was.”

His heart pounding, Jaime picked it up and examined it, balancing it on his golden hand. He turned it over, marvelling at the polished blade and the finest of edges. Frozen Fire the Valyrians had called it. Obsidian. The blackest of all volcanic glass. It was beautiful.

“She’s given you quite the gift.” Tyrion watched the play of emotions on his brother’s face.

“She’s given me back my sword arm.”, he said softly. Jaime felt a lump form in his throat. How was she able to see right into him, to see exactly what he needed? The realization hit him that she had asked Tyrion to do this because she knew there was a chance she might never see him again. His heart pounded in his chest. He tried to push the thought away.

“Why don’t you try it on?”, Tyrion smiled.

Jaime could only nod. He removed his golden hand and Tyrion took the dagger and pulled the sleeve gently and firmly onto his stump. It reached just below his elbow and he wound the leather laces, criss-crossing them the rest of the way up his forearm to eventually tie firmly  above his elbow. The fit was perfect.

Jaime stepped back to shake his arm and test it’s hold. The sleeve held so he started to swing it to the left and right, lunging and thrusting. His arm was weaker than it had been but it remembered the feel of a weapon and it came alive again. The blood started flowing and he could feel his arm thrumming with an energy he hadn’t felt in years. Gods, it felt good! He had missed this! _Golden hand, be damned!_ _What a useless extremity that had been!_

Tyrion watched him move, emotion welling up in him. _You’d better come back, Brienne of Tarth. He needs you._

Jaime stopped to look at Tyrion, “Thank you”.

Tyrion shook his head. “Don’t thank me. Thank her. When she returns.” He turned and left the courtyard, a small smile playing across his face.

Jaime brought the heavy golden hand over to the blacksmith who had been watching the exchange and threw it down in front of him.

“You’ve done extraordinary work, Ser. Thank you. Please melt this down for me. Take whatever you think your work is worth. The rest can be used to buy more food and provisions for Winterfell. Can I entrust you to this?” The shocked blacksmith only nodded his head and wrapped the chunk of gold into a dirty piece of cloth and stowed it away in a chest at his feet.

“Please keep a small portion for me. Only 3 coins worth.”, the blacksmith nodded again, and mumbled, “Of course, Ser. Thank you, Ser.” before going back to his work.

***********

Despite the thrill of his new weapon, Jaime’s worry for Brienne put all else out of his head. He stowed the dagger into his room, threw on his woolen cloak and went straight to the battlements beside the North Gate to watch for the party’s return. He felt helpless, _useless!_ , standing guard, but it was all he could do. He paced up and down the north wall trying to keep warm but mostly because his feet wouldn’t stay still. A million times he resolved to jump on his horse and a million times he heard Tyrion’s voice in his head. And all morning and all afternoon, he paced the wall and watched the treeline for any movement, any sign that the party was on their way back to Winterfell. But there was nothing.

He thought of the night before. Brienne had been there, alive and warm and in his arms. So close. The thought was eating him up inside. _He shouldn’t have let her go!_

His growing fear would turn to anger at her leaving. How could she put herself at risk like this? Foolish woman! Did she not understand the danger? She had never faced a dragon across a battlefield as he had! This was not an enemy to face alone! Shrieks of terror and pain haunted him at he thought of the battle after Highgarden. No Valyrian steel blade could protect her from a dragon’s breath. No wildling leader! No immortal bandit!

But then he would hear her voice in his head. “ _I serve and I fight, Jaime, that’s what I do. Just as you do. You should understand that._ ” And he did. And as he heard her words, his anger would melt. She didn’t fear death, just as he had never feared it. She traded her life for service, honour and a meaningful death. It’s who she was. It’s who he himself was. And for them, it was always just a matter of time. She was a true warrior, a body built to fight with a spirit to match and it’s why he loved her. **_He loved her_ ** _._ That stopped his pacing. Had he ever thought the words to himself? No. Yet it didn’t shock him. It had come quietly, over time, stealthy and secretive. Never revealing itself in whole. Slowly taking over every thought and feeling, but he had known. In every quiet moment alone with her, in every fiery fight and every sulky silence she had tortured him with. Every difficult submission of will, every hard fought truce, every time he had to watch her walk away into danger, and every reunion where he had to hide his joy in seeing her again. He had known.

Certainty hit him like a bolt of lightning. The kind of clarity that only comes in battle, where you are held at the point of a knife and death is only a breath away. Pain and fear sharpening a fine edge, like his new dagger. _He could leave his past behind_. It was merely a decision to make, just as Tyrion had said. He could remake himself. He could be a new man. Everything in his life since his capture at Riverrun had been leading him to this. To the North. To this battle. To her. He saw that path so clearly now. He loved her and he could not imagine a life without her.

Twilight came and she had not returned. Jaime tore himself away from the battlements, turned towards the stairs and headed for the Godswood. The new gods had never answered him, maybe the old gods would.

***********

Bran sat in his chair underneath the weirwood tree, his head turned away from Jaime as he entered the gate to the Godswood. It stopped him in this tracks.

Bran. Jaime had not seen much of Bran since his arrival, and to some degree, it had been a relief to him. He hadn’t been ready to face the now mysterious young man. The words hadn’t come to him, and they were not with him now. He turned to go.

“Ser Jaime.” He went cold and stood motionless. Had he imagined it? “I have been wanting to speak with you.” Jaime’s heart dropped and he slowly turned around. Bran still sat facing away from him. How had he known? “Please. Sit with me.”

Jaime slowly walked back towards Bran. “Lord Brandon, I’ve…” Jaime’s voice broke. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you as well.” Bran greeted Jaime with a solemn, steady stare. Not seeing Jaime entirely, or perhaps, Jaime thought, seeing _through_ him. Jaime found a large stone and sat opposite him.

“You can call me Bran, although …  that’s not entirely true either.”

“Yes. The three-eyed raven. I have heard. Although, I’m not entirely sure of who … what that is.”

“I see the past, I can see things that have happened all around the world. I see things happening now. I wouldn’t be this without you.” Bran’s expression never changed. As if he existed in two places at once. More in that world than this one.

“Bran...I don’t,  I...I can’t explain…”

“There’s no need.”

“Yes, there is a need.” Now that he was here, he wanted to relieve himself of this burden he had carried for so long. Jaime searched for the words he needed. “That day...I know that it probably means nothing to you, but that day has haunted me. I was a fool. And a coward. And I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to right that wrong.”

“I understand.”

“You understand?” That’s not the reaction he had been to expecting. “You understand I tried to kill you?”

“I understand you were trying to save the life of your sister. King Robert would have killed her had he known. You were in the position of choosing one life or another. Someone you loved, over a young boy you didn’t know. That’s not a choice.”

Jaime just stared at him with confusion and disbelief at what he was hearing.

“Your life has been lived putting yourself in harms way to protect those you love. Your family, your sister, your King, the men who serve under you, all of King’s Landing. Lady Brienne. Everything you do, you do for love. You give yourself to others, even as it breaks you apart into pieces. Those choices are never easy, and never clean, but they are heroic.”

Jaime was stunned at his words. A wave of emotion welled up in him, filling up his chest. As if a lifetime of regret and shame had suddenly come to the surface, spilling over, emptying him, leaving him hollow. And clean. If Bran could understand, if he could forgive him then maybe there would be hope for him.

Tears pricked his eyes and Jaime knelt his head to hide them. Bran should hate him. He could have had him killed the moment he arrived.

“Now you’re here to protect the north and all of Westeros. You’re here to do as you have always done. Protect those you love, who you’ve sworn to protect. And they need your help. Jon needs your help. You’re here to fulfill your vow at last.”

Jaime slowly raised his head. _His vow_ ? He didn’t understand what Bran meant. _What vow?_

“Jon Snow is not a Stark bastard. He’s Aegon Targaryen, son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. Born in wedlock. Heir to the Iron Throne.”

Jaime heart stopped. No. It couldn’t be. He began madly pulling the pieces of the past together in his mind. He had sworn an oath to protect Rhaegar’s children, but after the rebellion, during the sack of King’s Landing, both had been killed at the hands of Ser Gregor Clegane. Jaime had never been able to fulfill that oath. Another broken promise. How could it be that he had another child? His heart started pounding again. Jon’s face, something in it had been Eddard Stark’s but...not. Could there be something in him that had always reminded him of _Rhaegar_?

“Rhaegar. He didn’t kidnap Lyanna? He left. Long before the rebellion. Abandoned his wife, his children.” Jaime looked to Bran for help to fill in the pieces.

“He annulled his marriage to wed Lyanna in Dorne. She had his child and died shortly after.”

 _And Ned had kept it a secret!_ From Jon, from Catelyn, from Jaime. Everyone! Ned had known it was Jaime’s sworn duty to protect Rhaegar’s children. And Ned had known that if Robert had ever found out, he would have had him put to death instantly. And so he had kept Jon safely tucked away in the north, and then even further at the wall. Away from King’s Landing and eventual discovery as Jon grew older. Ned had been able to do what Jaime hadn’t.

“He’s not safe anymore. Will you fulfill your oath, Ser Jaime?” Bran’s voice brought him to the present and his question brought all his indecision and uncertainty about his future crashing to the ground. Ned was gone, but Jaime was still here. And now he knew why.

Jaime pulled his sword from its sheath and plunged it into the snow and ice between himself and Bran. “I will. I swear it. My sword is Aegon Targaryen’s.”

***********

His mind swirled with the astonishing news, hardly knowing what to make of it as he ran across the courtyard, back to his room. He would find Jon later. He had to find Brienne now. He couldn’t spend another moment madly pacing the halls of Winterfell. Perhaps he could still follow the tracks left behind by the horses and wagon. If not, he would make his best judgement and keep track of his direction. Jaime ran up the stairs to his room to collect his armour and dagger. He pulled open his door and there she was, standing in the middle of his room, disheveled, blood running down the side of her face and into the neck of her dented armour. Relief flooded him, making his head spin. His legs felt too weak to stand on. _She was alive_.

“Jaime. I came looking for you.” She sounded breathless. Exhausted. Expectant. Her blue eyes looked as relieved at seeing him as he felt in seeing her.

Jaime crossed the room, closing the distance between them. “You found me.”, he whispered hoarsely and crushed her in an embrace, his mouth drowning out whatever she would say next. He held her face, pouring his heart and his fear and his love into their meeting of lips. He felt her surprise but then her surrender as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight. _She was alive!_

Brienne felt as though her heart could burst wide open. Nothing would have stopped her from returning to him and all during their long journey back, thoughts of him kept her moving. Through the cold and the fear and the struggle. The aches and bruises she suffered were nothing compared to the fear of never reaching him. She would close her eyes and memorize the lines on his face, practicing what she would say to him, what was truly on her heart. In the end, none of it mattered. Because everything she needed to say to him he clearly already knew.

He pulled away and looked into her eyes, heavy with fatigue...and with longing. She blushed. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheek and found her lips again. He tasted salt and the steely taste of iron.  

“I thought I’d lost you.” He ran his hand over her face, studying every part. “You’re hurt.” He touched the gash on the side of her face, bruised and swollen, the blood long dried.

“I’m fine. It’s fine.”

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He touched a cut on her lip with his thumb.

“No, Jaime. I’m ok.”

“You left. You didn’t tell me. I would have stopped you.”

“You could have tried.”, she smiled.

“Gods, you’re a stubborn woman!”, he pulled her into an embrace again, and was met with a body full of metal. “Let me help you out of this.” With her help, he unbuckled the armour plates as best he could with one hand. Once she was free, he looked her over again, relieved to see that she was virtually unscathed. He walked over to where his washing bowl was, intending to wash the blood from her face, but she didn’t move.

“Jaime. I want to stay.” He stopped, a wash towel hanging from his hand.

“You mean...you want to stay in Winterfell?”

“I mean...now. Tonight.” She ducked her head, feeling suddenly shy and insecure. Her heart was thumping in her chest. She looked up at him from underneath her eyelashes. “With you.”, she whispered. It nearly undid him. The towel dropped to the floor and he pulled her to him. He gripped the back of her head and kissed her deeply, pulling her bottom lip into his mouth, tasting blood from the cut and running his tongue along to soothe it. Tremors ran through her and she returned his urgency. Every part of him throbbing with need. He wanted her closer.

He led her to his bed and they fell together, holding on to each other as if their lives depended on it. He felt frantic. All the fear he had felt at the thought of her never returning poured out of him. He kissed her roughly, his stubble scraped over her jaw, their teeth grinding together as he pulled at their clothing, pulling off his breeches, tugging at hers, needing to feel her closer, feel her against him. To know she was real and warm and alive. To know that _he_ was alive.

He felt her shaking. “Brienne,” he looked into her clear blue eyes, so full of desire. And fear. He shook his head, clearing the fog. This wasn’t a hurried, frantic fuck with Cersei. This was Brienne. “I’m scaring you, I’m so sorry. Are you ok? Have I hurt you?”

“Yes. No”, she said. “I’m just…I’ve never....” The rush of desire was dizzying and it made her feel out of control. A feeling she was vastly unacquainted with.

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, slowing his racing heart. He took her hand and brought it to his bare chest, laid it over his heart and held it there. She could feel the mad beating and she looked at him with surprise.

“I’m scared too. I would never hurt you. You must know that.” Jaime wanted more than anything to soothe the fear on Brienne’s face. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.” She replied softly and echoes of Harenhal came back to her. They had trusted each other long before this moment.

He took a deep breath. He would do this right. For her.

“May I?”, he lifted her tunic tentatively. When she nodded he ran his hand up her thigh, under the fabric and over the curve of her hip to her waist. She shivered under his hand. He continued up her side and she lifted her body so he could bring the rest of the fabric over her head, along her now raised arms and let it fall onto the floor.  

He had seen her naked before in the bath house but only through a foggy haze of fever and pain. It was only a dream to him now. This was a whole new revelation. In armour she cut an imposing figure. Fierce and strong and stubborn. He knew her so well, her face, her voice, the stubborn cut of her jaw, her rigid stance and the way her body moved as she walked away from him, usually angry about one thing or another. But here in his room, with the firelight playing on her pale skin, she was a goddess cut from marble. Statuesque, muscular, with jagged scars of battle maring the porcelain facade.

“ _Gods, you are beautiful, Brienne._ ” He felt breathless, suspended in time. The thought that he nearly lost her left him feeling weak. He lay down beside her, wrapped his arms around her and breathed in her scent. She smelt of horses and leather...and that scent that was only Brienne. Brienne felt him tremble and she tightened her grip on him, holding his head against her neck.

“I’m here now.” His words left her feeling heady. Brienne the Beautiful. No one had ever told her she was beautiful before. Not when they meant it. But she felt beautiful with Jaime.

“Don’t leave like that again. Promise me.” She knew that was a promise she could never keep so she kissed him softly on his mouth. And then again. And then deeper...longer, slipping her tongue inside his mouth and pulling a groan from deep in his throat. He responded, running his hand down the entire length of her. He kissed her back, his tongue meeting hers as she wrapped her long arms around his neck. She could feel him start to stiffen against her body and like a starving man, he drank deeply from her, tasting, exploring and leading her in the exploration. He caught her full lower lip in his teeth and bit softly, a sigh emitting from her. He felt her soften against him and she pulled one long limb over his and wrapped it around his leg, driving his hips into hers as they moulded to each other, empty spaces filling with flesh and bone. He gloried in the feeling of her against him, every inch of her soft skin pressed to him. He could drown in her.

She didn’t know how to make love. But somehow her body responded in a primal way that even she didn’t know she possessed. She slowly let go of her fears and let her body respond to Jaime’s caresses. Give and take. A conversation of bodies and minds only they could have.

His mouth moved down, along her long white neck, dropping kisses as he went until he reached the jagged claw marks the bear had left. He trailed his fingers along each one, kissing them gently and looked up into her eyes. She smiled softly, remembering how he had pushed her out of the way as he faced the bear. She caressed his face and he turned his to kiss her hand and resumed his travels. Her head arched up as he kissed and licked the hollow at the base of her throat, traveling further down until he found what he sought and he brought his mouth over her breasts. She gasped. With one hand she found the back of his neck and pressed his mouth harder against her breast and with the other hand, she grasped the furs beneath them.

“Do you like that?”, he whispered looking up into her face, a smile in his voice, moving on to the other breast and repeating the pattern. Gods, he wanted to take her now and feel himself sink into her, hard and solid and find his release. But he moved slowly wanting her to experience all the pleasure that he could give her. Cersei had always been in control, never allowing him to lead, only follow. Her desire for domination had reached every corner of their lives, even in their bed chamber, so the thought that he was to lead Brienne and she would follow him, was intoxicating. He could give her pleasure she had never felt before and with the thought of it, his desire for her increased.

“Jaime…”, she said weakly. Her head was spinning. He pulled himself up to lie by her side and stroked her hair.

“I want you to know what it feels like to lie with a man.” he murmured. “To know that it’s not all great beastly men, taking what they want. It can be...pleasurable...for the woman too.”

It took her a moment to register what he had said and what it meant.

“Wait…”, she pulled herself up on her elbows. “...this is all just for me.” Her defenses were up again. “This is just...an education.” Her voice was rising and she started pulling herself away from his grasp. _Fool!_ , she thought. _To think that he desired her as she desired him. Was this just pity?_

“No! Seven hells,” he muttered, angry with himself and a bit exasperated with her. Didn’t she know by now? “That came out all wrong.”

She had swung her legs over the bed, back tense, but she turned to him. “Then tell me. Why am I here? Surely not just for your entertainment? MY entertainment?” She meant it to be commanding but it came out as pleading and she hated the vulnerability in her voice. _Can I not just have this one night before the world ends?_ , she called up to the gods.

He took her hand and pulled her back onto the bed, laying her down beside him, bringing her close. Her back was still rigid.

“I want you, Brienne.”, he touched her cheek and ran his thumb across her jaw. “More than I understand. More than I can fathom. Do you remember what I said in the Godswood?” He kissed her forehead, her nose, her chin. “You have become the one bright light in this dark world.”, he said nuzzling her earlobe. “Do you not know how brightly you shine?” His breath tickled her ear and his kisses were starting to melt her again and she felt her body relax under him.

 _How could this be?_ , she wondered, as he buried his face in her neck. _How could a man like this, a Lannister of all men, want HER, the ugly Maid of Tarth? The disdained, the mocked, the butt of every man’s joke?_ “Jaime...you, of all men, you could have anyone you wanted. I’ve seen the way the ladies in court watch you. I’ve only been laughed at and...and been made the fool. I don’t know how to…”

“THEY were the fools, Brienne. **I** was the fool. The joke is on me now, I suppose, because there is no one else I’d rather have in my bed right now but you.”, he kissed her while stroking her back, his fingers ran down her spine and she shivered against him.

“Please...let me show you.” His hand resumed their journey down the long muscled length of her, down her back, over her hip and flat stomach and lower...until he found her, moist and soft, stroking her while she moaned into his mouth. Slowly he moved while instinctively, her hips started to move in time with him.

His advances grew more insistent, venturing deeper each time and she started to feel the spinning. His hand, his mouth, his body taking full control of her senses. She could lose herself and her instinct was to fight her way back. He kissed her and she bit his lip, making him groan again. _Yes, that was it!_ She might not know how to make love, but this she knew! Her short nails bit into his back and he thrilled at the sensation.

 _Fight for me, Brienne!_ , he thought. _Make your claim. I am yours!_

He bit her lip lightly again, making his own small claim. Thrust and parry. He moved down her neck again, past her breasts, feeling the firmness of her torso beneath his lips, lower...lower until his mouth met his fingers.

“ _Jaime!_ ”, she cried out. Her body arching upwards, her head thrown back. The room spun in circles of light. He brought her leg over his shoulder and his mouth covered her, moving in time with her hips, tasting her completely. She didn’t know how long she could take this without her body exploding into a million pieces. She grabbed his hair roughly trying to hold on to something solid.

He felt her nearing the edge and before she could, he lifted himself up and guided himself into her, slowly at first, giving her time to get used to the sensation until he could take the agony no more. He looked up into her eyes, full of heat and desire and wonder, warning her of his entry and slowly pushed the length of him into her. She cried out as the momentary pain pierced through her, and then his mouth covered hers, wanting to taste her desire. He ground his mouth into hers, wanting to know the depth of her and she, finding her strength, responded in kind. Their bodies moved in an increasing, heated rhythm, her fingernails implanted into his back, until the oncoming wave consumed her and she closed her eyes and cried out as the sky opened up and poured down stars behind her eyelids. He sighed and grinned as he felt her pulsing body and with two swift thrusts, he poured himself into her, groaning in his final release.

Jaime held her there in that moment, bodies humming in synchronicity, his lips sending soft kisses up and down her neck. Until he felt the pulsing slow and with a soft grunt, pulled himself from her and lay beside her. Her eyes were still closed and a soft smile on her lips.

He watched her for a moment, the firelight playing over her face, her hair a disheveled golden mess around her head. “So now you know what all the fuss is about, hmmm, Lady Brienne?”, he chuckled softly.

“Don’t you ruin this moment, Ser Jaime.”, she shyly hid her face from him. He laughed out loud and realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had. Gods, he loved it when she smiled. The corners of her eyes crinkled and he wanted to kiss each one. He reached his hand over to where hers was lying beside her face and he wound his fingers through hers, brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed her calloused knuckles, one by one. _What had he ever done to deserve this unearthly creature in his life?_ , he wondered.

Brienne turned her body towards him, pushed herself up on her elbows and kissed him gently, first the top lip, then the bottom and each corner. Where her boldness came from, she didn’t know, but here, in the moment, she felt suspended from time and place. Perhaps here she was a different Brienne. Just here and now, she was his lady.

He draped his arm across her, caught one loose tendril of hair and wrapped it around his finger. She smiled and turned onto her side, her back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, speaking softly into her ear.

“If I could keep you from this war, I would. I would hold you in this room until all threat had passed. I would keep you safe.”

“That’s not me, Jaime.”, she said softly. “You know this. I can fight, and I will.”

He could hear the steel in her voice. He knew it. Of course he knew it. It was the essence of who she was.

“Then fight with me.”, he said, voice rasping. “Stay by my side.”

She turned to him and held his face in her hands. “That I can do. I swear it.” And she wound her arms around his neck and lost herself again in his kiss.

***********

Later that night, in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was not yet up, but the moon had started its descent, Jaime woke to find Brienne curled up, warm and inviting, against him. Wonder and desire filled him. He softly stroked her hair, but she didn’t wake, so he very carefully kissed her shoulder, up to her neck, into her hair, breathing in the scent of her...this woman he loved. She stirred and turned to him but didn’t fully wake. He gently kissed her lips and they opened to him with a sigh. His hand moved down her body to stroke her and a gentle moan escaped from her mouth. He wondered if she was dreaming of him. Jaime pulled her close and slowly, exquisitely, made love to her. Still half asleep, she reached her climax and let out a soft moan. He quickly followed her. Hearts beating rapidly, he pulled her close again and dropped a kiss on her temple.

“You’re mine now, Jaime Lannister.”, she said sleepily. She curled up against him and fell back to sleep.

“Always.”, he whispered and followed her into her dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a little longer to complete.  
> My apologies for that, but I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear what you think.  
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime entered the dining hall ahead of Brienne, hoping to find a quiet table in the corner but instead was greeted by a rough voice booming over the chatter, “Kingslayer! Here! Sit!!”
> 
> Jaime grimaced and looked over to where he was being summoned. A large man, hairy, with a thick beard as red as fire and piercing blue eyes, was eyeing him up and down. Large bruises and welts covered the side of his face and one eye had turned vivid shades of green and black. He looked ferocious, and not one you said no to easily. Tormund, the wildling leader he supposed. He motioned him over again and as much as Jaime would have liked to ignore him and find that quiet seat, his curiosity was piqued by what Brienne had told him so he made his way over.

The sun found its way through the cracks in the shuttered window and threw light into the room and onto the bed where they lay. Jaime opened an eye and watched Brienne sleep inches away from him. Her chin was tucked into a bare shoulder and he watched the sun play on her hair and face, making her eyelashes shine like laced gold. Despite the angry cut on her forehead and the remnants of blood they had failed to clean from her face the night before, the worry lines that were always present between her eyebrows had vanished and she looked younger, more beautiful and more at peace than he had ever seen her. Her heavy, slow breathing meant she was still fast asleep. He wanted to reach out and feel her warmth, to know she was real, because it all felt like a fantasy. He smiled at the memories of the night before, but he didn’t move, not wanting to wake her. As if she sensed him, she half opened her sleepy eyes and smiled shyly, shutting them again.

“I dreamt of you.”, she whispered. “I thought you were a dream.” He reached out and touched her cheek.

“I’m very much real, my lady.”, he smiled. Her hand surfaced from beneath the furs and held his hand on her face. She was so warm and soft. So unlike the Brienne he had known up until now. She had always been fierce, stubborn and hard...completely admirable. But this Brienne was sweet and shy. And compliant. And his desire for her consumed his senses.

“What are you thinking?”, she asked. Memories of the night before flooded her mind and she blushed. Maid no more. Did he have second thoughts, waking up with her in his bed? The cold light of day often brought reason and logic and things said in the candlelight melted away in the sun. She kept her eyes shut tight at the thought.

“Life is a cruel mistress. Here you are, finally, alive and lovely and warm in my bed and the deadliest enemy we’ve ever faced is soon upon us.” Her eyes opened and saw how solemn he looked, fearful even. “Brienne, what happened out there?”

“Did Tyrion tell you where we went?”

“Yes, you went to save some damned wildlings who really should have known better.”

“They were a camp of women and children. Held there by a bunch of brutes.” Brienne propped herself up on her elbows and the memories flashed before her eyes. “Do you know how wilding men take a wife?” He shook his head. “They kidnap them straight from their tents and pull them into theirs. That’s it.”

“That’s no surprise.”, he said flippantly.

“There were three of them, the wildling men, and probably 20 women plus children. They came down from beyond the wall but never intended to fight with King Jon. They set up camp and refused to go any further south. They certainly weren’t going to go back north, so they just stayed where they were, hoping they would go unnoticed by the dead. Bloody foolish men! Tormund tried to…”

Jaime interrupted. “Tormund? The _wildling_ leader?”

“Yes. He’s...different. Tormund made an alliance with Jon and he’s here to help protect Westeros and his people. I think...I think he’s a good man.”, she said and a shyness came over her. That stopped Jaime for a moment as he studied her face. He would have to meet this Tormund. She continued. “Anyway, he stayed back to try to talk the three men into leaving camp and riding south to Winterfell and to make sure they didn’t pull up camp and leave. They, of course, refused and became violent, saying that Tormund was trying to steal their women.” Brienne’s face hardened. “By the time Berric and I and a couple other men returned, they had overwhelmed Tormund, tied him up and were holding him AND the women and children. We had to fight our way through to save them.”

“Is that where you got this?” Jaime touched the cut on her forehead.

Her hand came up to his and felt the gash. She winced. “Yes, but you should see how I left him.”, she said with a shy smile.

Jaime grinned. “My warrior woman.”, he said softly. “I’m not sure I do, but I do believe you.” He stroked her silky cheek again. “Do you remember the three Stark men? On the road to King’s Landing? _Gods_ , I had never seen a woman fight like that before. I think I wanted you right then and there.”

Brienne’s eyes widened and a blush came over her face again. “I never would have guessed it.”

“I was a blind fool.” Jaime planted a quick kiss on her lips.

“ ‘They lay with lions.’ ”, she looked slyly at him and grinned. “I see now why they risked it.” He burst out laughing at that.

“The foolish and brave things you do. We should clean that up. But first...” He pulled her face to his and kissed her long and deeply, her heart starting to beat wildly against his chest. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him onto her chest, hardly believing where she was and with whom. She ached for him all over again. How could that be?

“I don’t know what I would have done had I lost you.” He settled his hips solidly against hers as they once again got lost in each other.

*******

Some time later, Brienne sat soaking in a bath Jaime had called for and he was cleaning out the gash on her forehead. It was a nasty cut, caused by the hilt of a sword, she had told him, and the thought of any man hurting Brienne made his blood boil. He finished cleaning it and rubbed some ointment into it, making her wince again.

He sat down beside her, his chin resting on the edge of the tub and he watched her wash herself. It was a familiar scene now and he smiled at the closeness he felt to her.

“I spoke to Bran last night.”

“You did?”

“Somehow...he’s forgiven me.” Jaime’s eyebrows knit together and he stared into the murky depths of the water. Of course Brienne knew what he spoke of. Rumours had floated around Winterfell for years that either Jaime or Cersei had been the one to push Bran out of the broken tower window that almost caused his death. Brienne had hoped that it hadn’t been Jaime but this confirmed it and her heart sank a bit. Cersei had always kept her hands clean while those around her did her bidding. If they had anything to hide, it would be Jaime taking care of the details.

Brienne’s silence caused him to look up at her. Instead of disgust, he saw sympathy in her eyes and she brought one wet hand up to stroke his arm.

“He also told me something that will affect my future.”

“He did?” Brienne’s heart fluttered suddenly. Could it be something that would take Jaime away from her? “What is it?”

“Jon Snow is, apparently... a Targaryen.” Brienne stopped, her blue eyes wide.

“A Targaryen. How could that be?” Jaime then told her the story of his broken vow and Ned Stark’s secret. By the time he was finished, she was shaking her head in wonder.

“King Jon never knew? Lady Catelyn certainly didn’t, they way she talked of him. She should have known.”

“I suppose the only way to ensure Jon was safe was to never tell a soul. Even your own wife. That’s quite a secret to keep. If anyone could keep it, it would be old Ned.”

“Why hasn’t he told anyone?”

“I can only guess that it would be more of a distraction right now.”

“Perhaps. So...you being here in Winterfell is your chance to fulfill your vow. A vow of your Knighthood.”, a slow smile spread across her face.

“I suppose so. Does this mean I’m stuck in this bloody, cold, miserable place?” he grinned back at her.

“I believe it might, Ser Jaime. Just as I am.”, she smiled shyly. He took her hand and squeezed it.

“Just when I thought I was alone, just when I thought I had no purpose past this war, it seems that the Gods have more in store for me.” The idea was just starting to sink in. A new life. _A real and full life._ “I may only have one sword arm but it’s now his.” Jaime smiled up at Brienne. “If he’ll have me.”

“Of course he will. You are a true and loyal and brave Knight, Ser Jaime. The Book of Brothers won’t be able to hold all the tales of your bravery. You have much to do.”

“And I am now well equipped, thanks to you. Brienne, your gift was...well, you don’t know what your gift means to me. Thank you.”, he kissed her hand.

“Do you like it?”, she smiled. “Does it fit? I didn’t know it if would be worthy of the greatest sword arm in all of Westeros.” He laughed out loud at that.

“WAS the greatest sword arm in all of Westeros. No more. But it is much improved now. It’s perfect Brienne. I couldn’t ask for anything more perfect.” He leaned forward and kissed her soundly.

He sat back again and Brienne resumed her bathing as Jaime fell into musing. “Rhaegar was a good man despite who his father was. I’m more than glad to be able to keep my vow to him. Jon is a good man too, I see that. Perhaps more like Ned than I’d care for but he is more than able to lead this battle … and I’ve been waiting all my life to fight for the right cause.” Jaime moved his hand across the water creating small ripples. “When I was a boy, all I wanted was to fight. I challenged anyone who would take me on. I felt most alive when I had steel in my hand and I was facing a foe. That’s all I knew. I was so blindly loyal to my father. I looked up to him more than anyone. To me, he was the greatest warrior ever known, and all I wanted was to fight for him until my dying breath.” Brienne watched his face grow sad and still.

“When I was grown enough to see him clearly, to see him be cruel and deceitful, … I just thought … that’s what you do for family. That’s loyalty. Above all else is the love you have for them and all that you would do to protect them. My family … it’s all I know, it’s all I ever had. But … what do you do when your family turns on you? First my father. I was never who he wanted me to be. I was always disappointing him. Now … my sister. I’ve disappointed her too. ” He looked at Brienne who had stopped to listen to him. “Brienne, I don’t love her anymore, I promise you. But I might always be haunted by her.”

Brienne leaned forward, bath water dripping from her arms. “You might. But if you are...”, she put a hand on his cheek and gently lifted his face to hers. “...you look right here and remember where you are. You remember … that you are loved.”

*******

They decided to go down to the noon meal separately, not wanting to start a storm of whispers. Jaime entered the dining hall ahead of Brienne, hoping to find a quiet table in the corner but instead was greeted by a rough voice booming over the chatter, “Kingslayer! Here! Sit!!”

Jaime grimaced and looked over to where he was being summoned. A large man, hairy, with a thick beard as red as fire and piercing blue eyes, was eyeing him up and down. Large bruises and welts covered the side of his face and one eye had turned vivid shades of green and black. He looked ferocious, and not one you said no to easily. Tormund, the wildling leader he supposed.  He motioned him over again and as much as Jaime would have liked to ignore him and find that quiet seat, his curiosity was piqued by what Brienne had told him so he made his way over.

Several other men sat at the table, none with friendly faces.

“Kingslayer! Have a seat, man!” He sat across from the large man as others made room for him.

“Jaime. Please.”

“But didn’t you slay a king?!” His voice boomed. Jaime looked around the table, feeling incredibly conspicuous and gave a quick nod.

“Then you are Kingslayer!” He looked as if he admired Jaime for it.

“And you are…?”

“Tormund Giantsbane.” He pounded his chest with the flat of his hand. With a big meaty hand he pointed at a man with an eye patch at the end of the table. “Berric. Did you know this man has died! Six times!” Tormund looked at him with wonder, shaking his head. Jaime knew of Berric Dondarion of the Brotherhood well. He had in fact, ordered his death many years ago. He was never caught. Little good that would have done.

“Gendry. Good with a hammer.”, Tormund said nodding at him and winking. Gendry, who sat beside Jaime, kept his head low and didn’t look him in the eye.

“Sandor.”, he motioned to him with a fist full of bread and then pushed the entire piece into his mouth.

The Hound gave Jaime a withering look. “We’ve already met.” And he went back to eating his bowl of stew.

“So…”, Tormund chewed on his bread thoughtfully. ”...you are a Lannister.” Tormund’s eyes danced. Jaime gave him one quick nod as a kitchen girl dropped a bowl of stew in front of him, some slopping over the sides, and turned quickly to leave. “Bastards all, they say.”

“All depends on who you ask I suppose.” Jaime didn’t like at all where this was going.

“You have a lot of enemies here.” Tormund leaned forward and lowered his voice. “And no sword hand? Yet you come alone. You must have balls the size of a winter bear.” Jaime looked up in surprise. Tormund was grinning at him and Jaime, looking around the table to see if the other men had heard him, gave up a small smile.

“And just my luck, I was cursed with only one life. Perhaps I should take up religion.”

Tormund erupted in laughter that filled the room. “I like this guy!” Jaime looked up to laugh with him but Tormund’s face became still as he gazed past him to someone across the room. “And this will be my wife.” Jaime looked behind him, wondering at the kind of woman that would catch this bear of a man’s eye. Brienne had just walked into the room, looking around for him, he assumed. Of course. Her shyness this morning at the mention of his name became clear to him now. He should have known.

“Look at the size of her.”, Tormund’s tone was reverent and somewhere inside of Jaime, small flames of jealousy flared. At the same time he wanted to burst out laughing at the lovestruck look on his face. “There could never be another woman for me. We will make great big babies, eh?” Tormund looked back at Jaime, obviously wanting Jaime to agree. Jaime only raised his eyebrows and looked back at Brienne.

Brienne caught Jaime’s eye and at the same time, saw Tormund’s leering face behind him. Jaime’s eyebrows shot up in a questioning look and Brienne blushed. This was not going to be comfortable.

Tormund stood up and gestured for Brienne to sit, pulling out a chair for her. When she hesitantly took the chair and sat down, Tormund grinned like a little boy and poured her a glass of ale and bellowed for food to be brought to the table. Jaime had folded his hands in front of his face and hid his smirk while Brienne shot him daggers.

“Kingslayer! You should have seen this woman fight last night! She bested two wildling men! Big men! One knocked her down to the ground and she got up and swung at him. She dropped him like a stone!” He gazed at Brienne lovingly. “It was beautiful. Have you seen her fight?” Tormund looked from Brienne to Jaime and back to Brienne again.

“I have indeed.”, Jaime was still smirking but a quick smouldering glance at Brienne made her breath catch.

“One bastard came up from behind and clubbed me with a stick. Knocked me right out. Woke up tied to a tree. This one saved me.” Tormund motioned to Brienne with his spoon and then tapped the side of his bruised face. “I wouldn’t be here.”

“She had a little help!” The Hound finally piped up from the other end of the table and the men chuckled at that. Even Brienne managed to crack a smile.

“That I did.”

Tormund tapped Jaime’s bowl of stew with his spoon and then motioned to Brienne. “When have you seen her fight, eh?” Tormund dug into this stew and chewed vigorously, waiting for a good story.

Jaime glanced at Brienne and then back at Tormund, looking him directly in the eye. “Brienne kindly escorted me back from Riverrun to King’s Landing. I saw her take down three men at one time and I happened to be on the receiving end of her deadly arm at least once. But...there was also many times when she saved my life as well.”

Brienne blushed again. “I seem to remember you saving mine as well.”

Tormund, mouth gaping, looked from Jaime to Brienne and back to Jaime. “ _You lucky bastard_.” Brienne rolled her eyes.

Just then movement on the other end of the room caught Jaime’s eye. Jon stood up from his table and left through the side door. Jaime pushed the stew to the middle of the table and stood up himself. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with Lord Stark.” He caught Brienne’s eye for a moment and she nodded, watching him leave.

“Aye, aye…” Tormund said distractedly. With loving eyes still on Brienne, he pulled Jaime’s stew towards him and started to dig in.

*******

Jaime caught up with Jon in the hallway outside. “Lord Stark, if I could have a word…” Jon turned around and suddenly Jaime saw it. Rheagar’s jawline and fine cheekbones. Something in the shape of the eyes, something in his stance. Why had he never seen it before? The poignancy of the moment rooted him to the spot.

Jon waited patiently for a moment and then his eyebrows shot up, questioningly. “Yes, Ser Jaime? What is it?”

Jaime found his voice again. “May...I...speak to you in private. Please.” He could see the impatience in his eyes, but Jon looked around at the rooms at their disposal and motioned Jaime in one without a word.

It was a small sitting room for the cooks and kitchen maids, with only a small table and a few chairs. Not at all suitable for the conversation they were about to have. Jon stood waiting.

“Is everything well with...your accommodations?”, Jon asked after a moment of awkward silence.

“Ah, yes, yes, everything is … fine. Thank you.”

“So then spit it out. What is it?”

Jaime suddenly felt the floor hard under his feet and the air around them thicken. The space felt too small and Jon too close. He cleared his throat.

“It’s to do with my...future. I had a conversation with Bran last night. And he told me something I did not know.”

“He tends to do a lot of that these days.”

“Yes, well, it was something to do with...you.” Jon tensed and raised his head just slightly but let Jaime continue. “You must know that I was Kingsguard to not only Aerys but to his entire family...to Rheagar, his son, as well.”

Jaime saw Jon’s jaw muscles flex and his hand went slowly to his sword.

“Do you honestly think that’s what I’m here to do? Please, no, that’s not what I’m trying to say. What you may not know is that I was sworn to _protect_ Rhaegar’s wife and children when he left for the Rebellion. I wasn’t able to keep that vow…” Jaime swallowed and lifted his chin to look Jon cooly in the eye. “...until now.”

Jon’s eyes never left Jaime’s and his hand stayed on his sword. “The others cannot know. Not now.”

“I realize that. And I understand.” Jaime hesitantly took one knee and Jon stepped back, looking a little shocked and uncomfortable. “I have alegences to no one anymore, no one except to ghosts of the past. If you accept, my sword and the sword of Ned Stark, is yours, such as it is.” Jon gazed at him, his eyebrows creasing together, probably remarking at the incredible turn of events. Years ago when the Lannisters visited Winterfell, Jaime had mocked Jon for taking the black and had made him feel like a foolish child. Now he was offering his sword and his life. Jaime waited.  “Are you really going to make me say the words?"

“No, no. That’s enough. Get up.” Jon motioned for him to rise. “You need not say the words. I accept.” Jaime got to his feet.

“Your father was a noble man and much loved. I had great respect for him. You should be proud.”

“So was my father, Ned.” Jaime nodded and Jon turned to leave but then stopped at the door. “You knew him better than most. If we survive this damned war...I’d like to hear about him.” Jon smiled slightly and Jaime nodded, his heart pounding in his chest and a feeling of lightness came over him. His flagging ship was once again back on course.

*******

Brienne was back in her room, her head bent over a desk and a quill posed over a blank scrap of paper. She was attempting a reply to her father, but the words were not coming to her. She had no answer yet, and in fact the situation had grown much more complicated after last night. How could she leave for Tarth now, or even after the war? It seemed her life was here now, both their paths crossing in this frozen northland. Both finding purpose and a future. And each other. Or at least, that’s what he had implied this morning. Did she really know his heart and mind? Was she truly a part of his life? She shook her head. Silly thoughts. There were more important matters at hand. Time was slipping away and she needed to get a note to her father, regardless of her indecision. She scribbled a quick note wishing a speedy recovery, begging him to hold fast and pray for her as the war was soon upon them. She signed the note “ _Always, your loving daughter, Brienne of Tarth_ ”. She folded the note and stood to take the note straight to the Maester when she heard a knock on the other side of the door.

“Yes?”

“Brienne, it’s me.” She opened the door and Jaime swept into the room, slamming the door behind him. He pulled her swiftly into his arms and covered her mouth with his, his fingers on his left hand pulling her head closer and his stump wound around her waist, carefully turning her and pushing her against the door. His mouth became insistent, tasting her deeply, his tongue pushing into her mouth, exploring every corner.

“Jaime!”, she gasped when she had a chance.

“Do you want me? Gods, I want you again. And again.” He pulled her over to the bed and they fell together. He looked into her eyes and saw they were smiling. He took that as her answer and began to untie his breeches and unbuckle the belt around her waist, both kissing and laughing as he did. She helped him remove his clothing and he removed hers and they panted together as he felt her readiness and pushed himself inside her. “I want you to forget any thought of red-headed wildings.” He bent his head and whispered into her ear.

“There is no need.”, she said breathlessly.

“You are mine as I am yours.” And he took her quickly, her pique coming furiously just before he was unable to hold any longer, and he released himself with a shudder. His head fell beside hers, his breath coming out in gasps. She turned to meet his lips and they drank in the taste of each other, slowly and softly. He pulled her close, her head on his chest so she could hear his beating heart. They lay like that for a while, quietly, listening to the wind and snow increasingly beat at the window, rattling the shudders as the room started to darken.

A horn blew somewhere out in the snow and they both stilled. Another. Their heads came up to look at each other. A third horn blew. Fear flashed across both their faces before they sprang out of bed.

*******

Brienne stood back, her hand on the pommel of Oathkeeper and waited as the young northern boy who had been assigned as Jaime’s squire tightened the last of the buckles on his breastplate, cinching it into place. He had been lent a suit of armour from one of the Northern Lords and although he looked magnificent in the grey wool, boiled leather and slightly dented metal, it fit oddly and he squirmed in it, as if to force it to fall into place. Perhaps the squirming had nothing to do with the fact that it wasn’t made to fit him but that it lacked the Lannister crimson, gold and lion insignia. _A_ _lion in wolf’s clothing,_ she thought wryly. Regardless of how the north had accepted his presence in the castle and on their lands, it must still be an uncomfortable reality.

Pod had quickly helped Brienne dress into her armour, the armour Jaime had given her, and had retreated to run Brienne’s note to the Maester and help the Hand of the Queen with his armour.

Jaime waved the young squire away and he ducked quickly out the door.

“Would you help me with this?” Jaime picked up the dragonglass dagger and straps that would keep it tightly tied to his arm. He hadn’t the chance to train with it like he would have wished, but feeling a blade on the end of his arm was the closest he felt to his old self. No more heavy gold hand that weighed him down, used merely as a shield. He now had full use of his arm again. It felt lighter, swifter and once again, deadly.

“Of course.” Brienne took the dagger, still in its sheath, and pulled the sleeve gently and firmly onto his stump. He rested his arm on her hip as she wound the laces around his wrist, crisscrossing them as she worked her way up his forearm to eventually tie them firmly just above his elbow.

Jaime watched her steadily as she worked, no expression crossed her face as she concentrated on the ties, but he saw her breathing increase and felt the trembling in her fingers.

He felt his nerves on edge too. There was always nerves beforehand. Jaime’s father had told him before his very first battle that if he wasn’t a little scared, he was a fool. But you make your peace with death before you leave your tent and whatever happened afterwards was the will of the gods. This, however, was not a typical battle. They were fighting death, figuratively and literally and the woman he loved was riding into battle with him. The thought of Brienne wounded or worse was not something he could make peace with. It twisted his stomach into knots and as she looked up into his eyes, he saw the same fears reflected back.

There was no time left, neither did he have the leisure to choose the perfect moment. He wound his other arm around her waist and tugged her towards him.

“I love you too, Brienne. More than I can understand.”, he said with an unsteady voice. “If you don’t already know it, know it now. If we survive this, you and I, I have no decisions to make. I AM yours. Always.”

She wrapped her arms around him, their armour crashing and scraping together and she kissed him with a desperation she had never felt. She had fought for so much for so many but never for herself. She had never feared death until now.

The battle horn blew another 3 times. They had to go.

“By all the gods, stay by my side!,” he said, intently, foreheads locked together, holding her face close to hers so she wouldn’t miss a word, “And if we should become separated... stay alive! I WILL find you!” She nodded her consent quickly.

“But if I should fall in battle…”, Brienne’s eyes closed at the thought, “...find safety. Run back to Tarth, to your father. Do what you need to do to live.”

“Jaime...I will NOT abandon the fight! I CANNOT. Don’t ask that of me.”

“Dammit, woman!”, he breathed. And then he kissed her, grinding his lips against hers, as if for the last time. “Then survive, Brienne. By all the bloody gods, survive!”

“And you.”, she breathed. “Don’t you give up, Jaime! I’ll fight with you.”

“Brienne, it’s you that I’ve been waiting for… all these years. It’s you, Brienne. It’s you that I fight for now. You are my home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for taking this long with the next chapter.  
> It's been a busy summer and I haven't found much time to write. No worries though, I intend to see this through to the end!  
> Thanks for sticking with it!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this one. ;)  
> I'd love to hear what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wave after wave of wights emerged from the forest. You could see a line of them as far as the Wolfswood to the White Knife, their unblinking blue eyes glowing softly. It sent a chill through Jaime. They were vastly outnumbered. The dead eventually came to a standstill and then the Walkers emerged from the trees, their dead horses ambling slowly and steadily through the masses to stop in the middle of the sea of decaying corpses. Their blue eyes pierced through the blowing snow. No one moved. The dead and the living faced each other across the vast white field of snow. 
> 
> _________
> 
> An update at last! Thanks so much for your patience.  
> You'll soon see that I'm no good at writing battle scenes but I hope it does the story justice.  
> I hope you enjoy. :)

Jaime and Brienne walked out of the North tower into a wall of white. The sky had grown dark as if twilight had set in and the wind had picked up to a point of blizzard conditions. The battle horn kept blowing it’s incescent warning, making Brienne’s nerves buzz. The usual cold north air had turned biting, stinging their eyes and stealing their breath as they held tightly to each others hands and dashed across the courtyard to the Great Hall where the Lords and leaders were assembling. _Seven Hells! How were they to fight in these conditions?_ Jaime’s fear was turning into anger.

A haphazard collection of townsfolk, from old men to young boys and even strong young women had lined up in the inner courtyard to collect their dragonglass daggers. Their armor an odd collection of mismatched and ill-fitting pieces. Young men shuffled their feet nervously and jumped at every loud noise made by the preparations. Old men, their battle-worn eyes betrayed a fear of the unknown horror lying ahead.

Outside the walls of Winterfell the Northern armies, alongside the Dothraki and Unsullied, were in military formation. The Wildings, led by Tormund, haphazardly filled in the gaps and Danny’s dragons were circling overhead, waiting for her command.

Inside the Great Hall, the room was filled to capacity but still and silent. All awaiting the arrival of Jon Snow, King of the North, and Daenerys Targaryen, the declared Queen of Westeros. The two people who would lead them through this battle to either victory or legend, should anyone live through this to tell the story.

They filed in, Jon and Dany, followed by Tyrion, Sansa, Arya and Bran, to a sudden cheer that filled the room. “King of the North! King of the North! Victory to the North!”

Jon quieted them quickly. “We don’t have much time. They’re here. The Night King’s army has been spotted by Bran just north of Winterfell. They are advancing quickly.” With that every eye turned to the young boy in the chair, all still wary and uncertain of the power he possessed.

Jon continued. “As I have said in the past, there are more wights than we will be able to defeat on our own. To defeat them, we need to be able to defeat the walkers who created them. And to defeat them all...we need to defeat the Night King. Focus on the walkers until we have a chance at him. We will _have_ to stand together, as one army to save Westeros. Because, hear me,”, Jon paused and took a deep breath, “... they mean to take us _all_ down, every single man, woman and child. There are _no_ prisoners in this battle.” Jon’s words hung in the air and every eye was trained on him.

Dany, dressed in thick brocade robes and furs, looked impressive as she stepped up and addressed the room. Her pretty, young face was hard and immoveable. “I came to Westeros after defeating many an army that seemed impossible to defeat.” Her voice raised slightly. “I have broken chains! I have opened manacles that bound the helpless! I have wiped out the unjust that would hold us mercilessly under their rule! And I have journeyed all this way to take my place amoung you. I am not about to give up Westeros and my rightful throne!” Her voice was raised in triumph, as if she had already defeated the most deadly army ever faced. “I am Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, and I will **_not_ ** be defeated!!!!” A cheer went up as swords were raised and the blood of every person in the room raced through their veins. Even Jaime and Brienne were moved with her words. Jaime could see why leagues of the oppressed followed her willingly. Followed and fought for her. Despite his reservations about this young Queen-to-be, he was impressed. He would have to acquire a few more titles and practice his battle speech for the future, he thought wryly.

Dany stepped down and stood beside Jon. A looked passed between them that Jaime recognized. It was admiration and pride and just a bit of apprehension. And love. Jon and Dany, both Targayrns, were in love. He wondered if she knew. _Typical Targaryn_ , he thought. _What a complicated web love spins._ He squeezed Brienne’s hand and looked up into her blue eyes. His heart contracted as she gazed back at him, her love for him clearly written there. What he would do if he lost her?

Brienne squeezed his hand back and said softly, “We are warriors, Jaime. This is what we do.” He nodded and lifted her hand to kiss it, onlookers be damned. She smiled. “I need to speak to Sansa.” She slipped through the crowd to the front of the room as Jon made his way to Jaime.

“Lannister, your armies have arrived. I have just spoken to Lord Westerling. They have only walked a short distance this day, just enough to ‘warm them up’ he says.” Jon cracked a smile. “They are, apparently, ready for battle.”  

“Can anyone truly be ready for THIS particular battle?”, Jaime mused.

“Indeed. But we must try.” To Jaime’s ears, it was an admission that Jon wasn’t nearly as confident as his speech had portrayed him to be.  

“We will do all we can.” Jaime clapped his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I will do all I can.”

“You know I don’t need care taking. I have faced this enemy before and survived each time.”

“Perhaps, but you’re not going to take away my one and only chance to redeem myself, are you?” Jaime jested, but his eyes revealed a seriousness that Jon caught.

“Far be it from me to steal a man’s chance at redemption. Especially when it involves watching my back. I’ll see you out there.” And with that Jon was gone and Brienne was back at his side.

“All well?”, Jamie asked.

“Yes. Sansa will be well cared for.” She had reassured Brienne that as the Lady of Winterfell, her place was with the children and elderly, barricading themselves in the crypts to wait out the battle. Davos and Varys would join her. She would be safe there. Should Winterfell fall, she would escape to the Eyrie and Brienne was to find her there after the battle, should Brienne survive.

Jaime quickly informed Brienne that his Lannister army had arrived and he needed to see to them.

Brienne nodded firmly. “Go. Be with your men.”

“Not without you.” Brienne smiled and nodded, turning quickly to leave but Jaime held her arm and looked through the crowd. “But first, I need to find Tyrion.”

“Ask for the devil and the devil appears.” Jaime and Brienne turned swiftly to find Tyrion behind them, dressed in his miniature suit of armour. Brienne was astonished to realize that he meant to fight as well. Pod, also clad in armour, was standing behind Tyrion, apparently hoping to fight alongside him as his squire. He looked to Brienne with a questioning look and Brienne responded with a quick nod and smile. She had taught him well, she only hoped he was prepared well enough for this particular fight.

“Brother.” Jaime found himself without a word to say. They had faced battles before, the Lannister brothers, and had said many a goodbye for many other reasons, but this one was different. The outcome had always tipped in their favour, knowing that they outnumbered or outmaneuvered their foes. This time it seemed the odds were reversed.

Tyrion looked nervous, his eyes wide. “Come now. I’ve never known you to not have a snide quip up your sleeve. Nothing for me this time? No disparaging comment about my battle attire or insult about who will help me on my horse?”

“I have nothing, brother.”

“You must try a little harder. Here, let me help you. ‘Tyrion, you’re going in the wrong direction, the battle is…’ ”, but Jaime stopped him when he bent down, pulled Tyrion into a firm embrace and held him there. Tyrion wrapped his short arms around his brother and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I am proud of you, brother. Don’t take this the wrong way but I’m very glad you’re here.”

“As am I.”, Jaime said, not trusting himself to say another word, lest he choke up.

“We need to go.” Tyrion pulled away, and kissed Jaime on the cheek before he looked up at Brienne. He smiled broadly, looking back at Jaime and winked at him. “I see you have finally found something worthy of fighting for.” And with that he and Pod were lost in the crowd.

***********

Alongside Lord Westerling, Jaime and Brienne sat shivering on their horses in front of the 10,000 men that had arrived from the Riverlands. He had been humbled when he greeted Westerling and the men. It was more than Jaime could have imagined would follow him north and he felt useful for the first time since arriving in Winterfell. Despite his fear, it felt good to be leading his men into battle. Brienne was right, it was where he belonged.

Brienne sat quietly, the cold seeping into her, as she listened to the rumblings of the armies gathered. The tension in the air was as sharp as the cold. It was an unusually bitter cold and she rubbed her hands together and wiggled her toes to keep them moving. She wouldn’t be able to fight with stiff, frozen hands.

A horn blew and she jumped. They all watched one figure after another slowly appear from the treeline. It wasn’t a frenzied attack as they thought it might be. It was slow and steady, none breaking away from the others as more and more bodies appeared, if you could call them that. They were mere husks of former beings, some mostly whole, some withered and decayed to bones and rags. Some held old, rusted metal, some held nothing at all but every one held an unquenchable thirst for war.

Wave after wave of wights emerged from the forest. You could see a line of them as far as the Wolfswood to the White Knife, their unblinking blue eyes glowing softly. It sent a chill through Jaime. They were vastly outnumbered. The dead eventually came to a standstill and then the Walkers emerged from the trees, their dead horses ambling slowly and steadily through the masses to stop in the middle of the sea of decaying corpses. Their blue eyes pierced through the blowing snow. No one moved. The dead and the living faced each other across the vast white field of snow.

Jaime watched the Walkers carefully, trying to find a sense of strategy in their formation, a signal between them that might indicate the next move, but there was nothing. As if they communicated on another level.

Out of the storm emerged a shreak that cut through the wind and made his blood run cold. He knew that sound. In his nightmares it preceded the sound of wings, wings so large that they could flatten trees with their beating. Viserion emerged, large blue globes for eyes, and atop him sat the Night King. Everyone looked to Dany as she circled the armies of Westeros from her seat on Drogon. Jaime thought he saw her hesitate but it was hard to tell through the distance and blowing snow.

Then everything erupted. Dany and Drogon made a swift tight turn and went straight for the Night King and her former child. _Could the war really be over that quickly?_ , Jaime wondered as he felt the rush of air as Drogon flew over their heads. He had to admit, it felt damn good to have a dragon or two on his side.

The air filled with red and blue fire as Drogon and Viserion circled each other, dipping and turning and charging each other in an impressive display of power and grace.  The screeching so sharp that he wanted to cover his ears. Visions of burning men and horses filled his senses and he could once again, smell the seared flesh. His heart raced and Jaime looked over to Brienne who sat motionless watching the display, streaks of red and blue reflected in her large eyes. She never imagined she would ever see such a sight in her lifetime. Jaime closed his eyes for a moment and pushed the thoughts away. Instead, he imagined her warm in his arms, his lips on hers and wondered if he would ever hold her again. This was no time to panic. He steeled himself for the battle of his life. This time, he fought for his future in a way he never had before.

There was no telling who was gaining the advantage, but as the dragons battled it out overhead, the army of the dead stood motionless, staring straight ahead. With any luck, Dany would take down the Night King and no one would have to engage the enemy. _Could they be that lucky?_ , Jaime wondered.

Another sound of beating wings and Rhaegar swooped in from behind their lines and engaged in the beautiful battle being fought in the skies over Winterfell. They charged Viserion from either side but Viserion neatly ducked and escaped their attack, catching Rhaegar’s tail in his mouth. The screech that filled the air shook the ground. Rhaegar turned one way and the other, trying to pry his tail loose from his grasp, but Viserion held it firmly. With one dragon incapacitated the Night King lifted his arm, a long, sharp icy lance in his grip, and with uncanny precision he aimed at Drogon, hoping to take down the second. Drogon swerved, narrowly missing the lance.

Dany and Drogon charged Viserion, and at the last minute ducked beneath Viserion to run Drogon’s spiked back along the underside of Viserion. It was enough to open Viserion’s mouth as he screeched, and Rhaegar’s tail was loose but hung limply from his back.

It was at that moment that the wights attacked and the ungodly cry that came from the hoard was enough to stop the heart of every man and woman on the battlefield.

Not Jon’s. He had faced this enemy before and he was prepared.

“Ar-chers!”, Jon roared from his position at the front of the lines, and his Lords echoed the command back to Winterfell. Within seconds the sky was filled with arrows, black dragonglass tips burying themselves in the hoard of wights, taking them down row by row. But they were not deterred. They scrambled over the bodies of the fallen and attacked as if in a frenzy.

“Again!”, Jon screamed and another storm of arrows were volleyed from the walls. Wights fell but they were soon replaced. There was no end to the living dead.

At Dany’s command, Rhaegar rushed down to the wall of kindling built around Winterfell and followed it around the castle, setting it alight as he awkwardly flew. Soon, the entire castle was surrounded by a ring of fire and Jaime and Brienne could feel the heat of it from where they nervously waited. It gave them some light to see ahead through the storm and it warmed their extremities, enough to give them a renewed sense of strength.

“ATTACK!!!”, Jon commanded and the North replied. The Dothraki forged ahead, screaming their war cry as their horses plunged through the wights, swords and arrows flying as they rode, trying to break through the thick crowd of wights to the Walkers.

The Unsullied followed on foot, swiping and swinging at every attack, bold and brave with no thought of the value of their own lives.

The Northmen, Wildlings and Lannister armies followed suit, all armies merging forward slashing through the thick hoard of wights. The Walkers stayed where they stood, letting the wights take full punishment as they watched on their mounts, their white faces passive, their blue eyes shining with the smell of victory. All the while, the dragons screeched and spun overhead in a dance of ice and fire.

Brienne and Jaime charged ahead and fought on horseback as long as they possibly could, Widow’s Wail and Oathkeeper breaking apart bodies as they rode, until the wights brought down their mounts, first Jaime’s then Brienne’s. They stood their ground, side by side, as they slashed and fought off the wights, always watching for the other. The wights were not all experienced fighters and it was easy to gain an advantage on them. Their strength lay not in their skill, but in their numbers as one after another replaced the one they had just taken down. They fought with a careless vengeance, with a fury that only the insane might possess. It would slowly wear down any human, battle-worn warrior or not.

With Brienne at his side, Jaime fought with a stamina he didn’t know he possessed. He would not allow himself to tire or falter. With his dragonglass blade and his sword slashing through the air and hitting body after body, he felt like the his old self again, as if the loss of his hand had no bearing on his skill as a warrior. The nerves in his right arm were singing gloriously with every hit but the wights were not tiring either. They attacked from all sides and both he and Brienne were constantly turning to protect their backs. He started to feel the scales tip, that moment when he knew would not be able to keep up the dance for long.

He looked to Brienne and he saw the same realization in her eyes.

“Step behind me!”, Jaime screamed at her.

“What? Why would I do that?”, Brienne screamed back as she slashed through two wights at once and swung around to stab another.

“Stay at my back and I’ll stay at yours!” She swung and brought down 3 more wights before she moved towards him, taking down a wight moving in on him.

Their swords moved back to back in a magnificent dance of steel. Two became one. Ice reunited. As if Ned and the Old Gods possessed the weapons and gave them life once again. Bones cracked and splintered and fell to the ground. Bodies broke and burst. They turned in rhythm, advancing closer and closer to where a solemn White Walker sat amid his army. As they approached, the wights gave way and stood back, letting their leader slowly ride toward the pair, his cold blue eyes boring into them. His long white hair blew in the storm. He was magnificent and terrifying. He stepped down from his cold, dead horse, his blade of ice shining at his side, poised for battle. Seconds went by as Brienne looked to Jaime and an acknowledgement passed between them. Jaime swung first, Widow’s Wail singing as his sword slashed through the air meeting the ice blade with a crash. Any normal blade would have frozen and shattered on the spot but Jaime’s Valyrian blade held firm and a look of surprise passed quickly over the cold white face of the Walker. The slightest smile crossed his haggard, white face and the fight began in earnest.

The Walker swung wide at Jaime and he had to jump backwards to avoid it. Jaime stepped around him in circles in order to watch how the Walker moved, how he swung and calculated his next attack. The Walker had skill and intent, he was no mindless wight. Jaime could see the judgement and calculation in his blue eyes. The Walker lunged for him and swords clashed and scraped over each other and the wights that surrounded them moved to protect their maker.

Brienne, hoping that they would have stayed where they stood, now had to fight them off to give Jaime a chance to defeat the Walker. She heaved Oathkeeper and swung it wide, taking down multiple wights at a time but she was no match for the numbers that came at her at once. She was able to keep them at bay for a while but they launched themselves at her, clawing and biting, trying to pull her to pieces. They were now too close for her to swing her blade and she she could only push and kick them away from her. Her blue armour, the armour Jaime gave her, would only protect her for so long. She screamed as she was pushed to the ground and more wights descended on her. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaime could see the assault and his heart plunged in his chest, but engaged with the Walker, he could do nothing about it.

“BRIENNE!!”, he screamed.

Helplessly, he fought the walker with every ounce of strength he had but knew that in the end, it wouldn’t be enough. He heard Brienne scream again and without a thought, he dropped to the ground and rolled, his right arm taking the full impact and it sent pain shooting up his arm to his missing hand. If the dagger wasn’t firmly fastened to his arm, he would have dropped it. With his left arm he was still warding off the blows of the Walker, but the dragonglass blade, shining in his right arm slashed at the Walkers’ legs. An unholy screech roared from him and he flew apart into a million pieces. Shards of ice flew into Jaime’s face and a strange thought came to him of a bright light flying towards him, breaking apart into a million stars and shooting up towards the heavens. His dream. _Brienne_!

Jaime rolled to his feet, only to witness a wide swath of a thousand or more wights break apart and fall to the ground. Scattered in the field of dead wights stood Jaime’s men, looking around them bewildered and relieved as their enemy lay at their feet. Brienne watched from where she lay. Wights had been crawling all over her with one boney hand around her throat, but they all now lay broken around her. She quickly stood up, a limp in one leg, and gazed at the field of bodies strewn around them.

Jaime rushed towards her and their armour clashed as he crushed her in his arms, kissing her face.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He pulled away and looked her over, seeing scratches and yet another gash on her face and her dented armour but she smiled back at him. She was unharmed. He let go of the breath he was holding and crushed her in another embrace.

“You did it, Jaime!”, she breathed in his ear.

“I guess, I did.”, he sounded relieved and astonished. “WE did.”, he grinned as he looked around them once again, with a clear view to the rest of the battle that continued. It was difficult to tell at that moment who was gaining ground on whom. He could still hear the Dothraki’s scream and the cry of thousands of men in battle. He tried to find Jon or Tyrion but it was impossible to pick out any one man in the mayhem. He sent up a quick prayer for his brother, made a quick calculation of where he would move his men and turned back to Brienne.

“Only a few hundred thousand to go, I suppose.” He kissed her again, soundly, taking just a brief moment to feel her warm lips moving against his. He had never felt happier and more alive.

From a distance, another set of vigilant eyes were on Brienne. Blue eyes that saw the embrace and whose heart fell at the sight. Tormund was busy leading his people in the fight with their old enemy, an enemy whose threat had always been just beyond the shadows. An enemy they all knew they would eventually have to face and were glad to finally see that day. Whatever the end, after today, the free folk would be truly free.

But at the sight of Brienne and Jaime’s embrace, Tormund’s blood lust grew for another. That damned Kingslayer dared take his woman! He pounded and fought his way through the wights that lay in his direct path to the Lannister bastard but there were too many and he was held back as he lost sight of Brienne and Jaime.

A screech brought Jaime and Brienne’s attention to the skies. Dany’s dragons were starting to tire as Viserion kept up his assault, his strength never wavering. However, it was only time before they would gain a moment’s advantage and it seemed that even the Night King knew when he was outnumbered. Viserion charged Drogon and hit him directly in the side with enough force to shake the largest dragon, knocking Dany off. They watched in shock as she fell from the skies into the snow, laying motionless.

  
Viserion then broke away from Rhaegar, dipping and soaring low along the armies fighting below. Men bellowed, “ _Dra-gon!_ ”, as they ducked and flattened themselves on the ground. Rhaegar pursued but instead of sending a deadly line of blue fire into the men as Jaime feared, Viserion flew straight for Jon and neatly plucked him out of the battle with his cold claws, taking Jon and his horse with him. Viserion’s massive wings swung strongly upward, the downward push of air pressing even the wights to the ground as Viserion carried Jon and the Night King upwards into the dark night sky, Jon’s horse eventually falling to the ground with a scream and a thud. Everyone watched in horror and Jaime’s happiness turned to ash as Viserion flew over Winterfell, finally sending a streak of blue fire into the heart of the castle walls and setting it aflame as he shrieked in victory and turned south to King’s Landing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Brienne, help me take take off my dagger.” She took one look at him and then at Drogon.
> 
> “Are you completely mad?? Didn’t you try to kill him once? Don’t you think he’ll remember you?”, she hissed.
> 
> “It’s the only chance we have at saving Jon, Brienne. I have to try. Please!”
> 
> “Then let me try!” Jaime turned from Drogon’s gaze, looked into Brienne’s blue eyes and pulled her face close to kiss her. “I love you. But no. Please help me do this, Brienne. Quickly!”
> 
> “Bloody, stubborn, stupid man…”, she mumbled as she quickly untied his dagger from his arm. “If you get yourself killed, I’ll kill you all over again!”
> 
> “Promise?”, he grinned at her but he quickly became somber as he turned back to Drogon.
> 
> *************
> 
> Again apologies for the long wait. It's taking a while to get these last chapters out. So much to consider...
> 
> I hope it's worth the wait! Thanks again for your patience and commitment to my story. 
> 
> *************

“My Lady? Daenerys! Can you hear me?” Jaime was leaning low over Dany, trying to see her breathing, trying to feel a heartbeat but her armour hid any slight movement of her chest that might indicate she was breathing. He put his ear close to her face to see if he could hear or feel a breath. All was quiet. He began to unbuckle her armour.

It seemed that the entire battle had ceased the moment The Night King had snatched Jon from the ground. There was a moment of sheer disbelief and then everything had erupted. Seeing Dany fall from her dragon, the surrounding wights had closed in on her. The majority of them had stopped their attack and started to follow their leader south, leaving a field full of bodies. Many were fallen wights but many more were Northmen, Unsullied, Lannisters, townsfolk and Dothraki that slowly started to reanimate. Their blue eyes seemed colder yet because their faces had not yet lost all their warmth. The absolute horror of it shook Brienne and Jaime out of their trance. By the time they arrived near to where Dany had fallen, there were two very angry dragons surrounding her, breathing fire on anyone who attempted to get close.  

“What do we do?” Jaime’s men were there, holding back the wights that had stayed behind and at the same time, trying to figure out a way to save the young queen. She hadn’t moved from the place where she fell. She was a still, lifeless figure where she lay on the white snow between Rhaegar and Drogon.

Jaime’s priority was not saving Dany, but Jon. However, he knew the only way to get to Jon quickly enough was Dany and her dragons. He needed her alive. So, before he lost courage, he caught the eye of Drogon, laid down his sword and held up his arms.

“Brienne, help me take take off my dagger.” She took one look at him and then at Drogon.

“Are you completely mad?? Didn’t you try to kill him once? Don’t you think he’ll remember you?”, she hissed.

“It’s the only chance we have at saving Jon, Brienne. I have to try. Please!”

“Then let me try!” Jaime turned from Drogon’s gaze, looked into Brienne’s blue eyes and pulled her face close to kiss her. “I love you. But no. Please help me do this, Brienne. Quickly!”

“Bloody, stubborn, stupid man…”, she mumbled as she quickly untied his dagger from his arm. “If you get yourself killed, I’ll kill you all over again!”

“Promise?”, he grinned at her but he quickly became somber as he turned back to Drogon, both arms raised, and started to slowly walk towards the massive dragon, one small step and then another. Drogon’s eyes never left Jaime’s as he very slowly advanced. Drogon’s head raised and with a screech he blew a ferocious column of fire into the air. Jaime stopped dead. His whole body shook. Brienne yelled for him to come back. Every muscle in his body was screaming to turn and run but there was something about the look in Drogon’s eye. There was an intelligence and understanding that he hadn’t noticed before.

“We want to save her life.” He pointed at Dany. He had no idea if Drogon understood, but he assumed he understood Valyrian. What did he remember of the ancient language from his studies as a boy? He wracked his brain, trying to piece together the words his Maester had tried to teach him. Life. Live. What was it? He never knew how important it would one day be.  “Glay…” He closed his eyes and saw his Maester’s lined face, the book of High Valyrian opened in front of him. “Glays…, Glaesagon! To live!” It was the term used in a simple greeting. How are you? Syrī glaesan. I'm good. I’m alive.

Jaime opened his eyes and looked into Drogon’s. “Glaesagon! Glaesagon!” He pointed again at Dany lying just beyond the dragon. Drogon’s eyes widened slightly. Did he understand?

“Glaesagon Daenerys! Glaesagon Daenerys!” He raised his arms to show them empty and weaponless. “Please.”, he whispered. they were losing time. Never had he needed an enemy to trust him more.

Drogon looked behind him at Dany and swung his head around to Jaime. He slowly raised it and stepped back, farther and farther, until Dany was in front of him. He stopped and waited. His wings raised in an arc around Dany’s body. Jaime’s heart was beating out of his chest as he again, slowly moved towards Dany. The closer he got, the lower Drogon’s head came to Jaime’s eye level. When he was a foot away from Dany, he stopped and stared back into Drogon’s eyes. They were as large as Jaime’s head, and from this distance, he could see the myriad of colours that made up the pupil. He had to admit they were rather beautiful. And terrifying. Drogon didn’t move so Jaime bowed his head to the beast and then he crouched and kneeled on the ground, his eyes never leaving Drogon’s.

“Glaesagon Daenerys. Please.” Puffs of smoke blew from Drogon’s nose and Jaime closed his eyes to shield them from it. Another warning. He quickly opened them again and Drogon face was mere feet away from him. His nerves shaking, he very slowly reached out his left hand and put it on Dany’s chest. There was no movement from her. He could feel the hot breath of Drogon on his face.

“Daenerys.” he shook her just slightly. “Daenerys.” He finally took his eyes off the dragon and looked down into her face. It was still, but there was no way to tell if she was alive or not. They needed to bring her somewhere safe.  He looked behind him at Brienne and his men. They were frozen to the spot, watching his every move while the wights were being held at bay by Rhaegar who was still breathing fire and smoke. This is madness! Jaime thought.

“We need a safe place! I can’t tell if she’s alive!”

“There’s a hunting cabin nearby!” Brienne called back. “Can you lift her?” Jaime looked back into the huge blinking eye of Drogon. How in seven hells was he going to carry her anywhere without being burnt alive? As if Drogon heard his thoughts, he lowered his head to Dany and carefully nudged her closer to Jaime. Jaime’s eyes widened in shock.

“Glaesagon Daenerys.”, he said and Drogon nudged her again. “Fuck me.”, he breathed. He carefully put his arms underneath Dany’s head and legs, worried that perhaps she had broken a bone and would cry out in pain and then all would be lost. He’d be ashes on the ground...but...not if he was holding Dany. So without another thought, he got a good hold of her and lifted her up, Drogon’s head following them the entire way. Jaime turned back to Brienne, his eyes wide and saw the same expression on Brienne’s face, along with a good amount of relief.

“Hurry! Follow me!”, Brienne said as she led Jaime and a handful of his men to the edge of the clearing. Drogon and Rhaegar followed on foot, stalking them from behind and warding off any wights that attempted to follow them.  

The hunting cabin was a small stone hut, hidden just beyond the edge of the forest. Brienne kicked the door open and allowed Jaime to enter the room with Dany. He had laid her on a rough wood table and bent over her.

 _There!_ He thought he felt something. A breath. A small one but she was breathing.

At that moment, the door flew open and Tyrion burst into the room shutting the door quickly behind him. Jaime was stunned, not only at the relief he felt at seeing his brother alive but amazed that he had found them.

“Is she alive?”

“Tyrion! How did you know we were here?”

Tyrion’s eyebrows raised incredulously and he pointed to the roof of the hut where Drogon was perched, screeching and breathing fire on the wights that had followed them to the cabin. You could hear them throwing themselves at the door and windows, trying to get inside.

“IS SHE ALIVE?” Tyrion said again, louder, and a little more panicked.

“Yes, yes, she’s alive. But she’s not conscience and I don’t know how badly she’s hurt.”

Tyrion ran to her side and stepped up on a chair to look down on her, sorrow and pain in his eyes.

“My Queen.”, he said softly. “Daenerys. Please, open your eyes. It’s Tyrion.” Almost as if at his command her eyelashes fluttered and suddenly her eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling and then at Tyrion, trying to orientate herself to her surroundings.

“Jon.”

Tyrion deflated just slightly. “My Queen, Jon was taken by the Night King. Are you hurt?” Her eyes refocused.

“We need to save him.” She winced but she sat up and slowly swung her legs to the edge of the table while Tyrion protested.

“My Queen, you might be...”

“I’m fine.”, she said as her hand went to her chest and she closed her eyes, still wincing.

“My Queen, you’re hardly fi...”

“I’m. FINE! We need to find Jon.” Dany stood, holding the back of a chair. “In which direction did they go?”

“South.”

“Do you think they’re headed for King’s Landing?”

“It’s the only place I can think of that makes sense.”, Tyrion said. “There are a million lives in King’s Landing. What better way to fortify his army and decimate the rest of Westeros?”

“But why take Jon instead of killing him? It doesn’t make any sense.” You could see the fear in Dany’s face but also the steely logic kicking in.

“We don’t know that he hasn’t.”

Dany nodded. “We need to leave. Now!”

Jaime stepped forward. “I agree. And you need to take me with you.”

Dany looked up at him. “And why should I do that?”

Jaime bristled. “Because I was just about torched alive by your bloody dragon to save your life! You owe me!” He softened slightly. “And you’re going to need as many swords as you can to rescue Jon.”

“Fine.” Dany started for the door. “Tyrion, you’ll ride with me. Rheagar will follow with Sir Jaime.”

Brienne had been standing back, listening to the plans, when she called out.

“Lord Tyrion.” Tyrion turned to her, as did the rest. “What of Pod?” Brienne’s voice was steady but her eyes betrayed her fear. Tyrion’s face fell. He bowed his head for a moment and then lifted his eyes to hers.

“Pod didn’t make it. He fell...getting me here.” Brienne flinched but she didn’t move. “He fought bravely, My Lady. You would have been proud. I’m so sorry.” Tyrion’s voice cracked a bit and he turned to leave with Dany.

Jaime walked back to Brienne, picked up her hand and kissed it, tenderness and pity in his eyes. “You’re coming with me.”

*********

The scene outside the hut was haunting. Winterfell lit up the now dark sky, it’s towers and ramparts bright with flame. Fires were lit sporadically around the field. Brienne had an odd thought that it would have been a pretty scene were it not for the body-littered battlefield and the hoard of wights making their way south. For every handful of wights that staggered by, there was a newly resurrected body, whole and complete and bloody, blue eyes glazed over as they continued on to their new mission. Brienne stood back in the shadows and lowered her eyes, hoping not to see Pod or someone else she knew. The heartache was slowly sinking into her chest but she didn’t have time now. There would be time enough to mourn the dead later.

Dany had summoned Drogon and Raehgar and was climbing onto Drogon’s back, giving orders in Valyrian. Jaime and Brienne looked up at the dragon, not at all sure about this now that they were faced with it. Were they seriously thinking of riding a dragon?

“He will follow. Climb up! Quickly!”, Danny yelled.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” Jaime looked hesitantly over his shoulder at Brienne as he grabbed onto Rheagar and pulled himself up. The huge beast lifted his leg to bring Jaime up to his back. Brienne followed. Jaime slipped his stump around her waist and held onto her as firmly as he could.

A voice called out from the darkness. “Wait!” Arya, followed by Gendry, Berric, and the Hound emerged, bloody and bruised, but whole. Brienne breathed a sigh of relief to see the Stark sister. Now, if only Sansa had made it out of Winterfell before the fire caught hold...

“Are you going after Jon?”, she called up from below.

“Yes!” Brienne called back. “We think he’s being taken to King’s Landing. We’ll find him My Lady, I promise!”

“If you’re heading to King’s Landing, we’re coming with.”, the Hound said gruffly. “I have ... business there.”

Dany wasted no time and nodded her agreement.

“We could use your help.” Jaime said. “Quickly then!” With Rheagar’s help, Berric and the Hound climbed on, the Hound taking his place in front of Brienne. He looked back and saw Jaime, eyebrows raised.

“I’ve done this before.”, he said gruffly. He turned to Brienne. “Hang on.”

“You will take care, My Lady!” Brienne yelled back down to Arya. It wasn’t a question.

“I’m not leaving my home again for that fucking place! I’ll look after Winterfell. Just bring him home.” Brienne watched Gendry put an arm around Arya as Rheagar, with one great thrust upward, lifted off and they were in the air.

The dark ground sped by at an alarming rate. They swooped low over Winterfell and they could see how much the fire had destroyed. The roofs of the Great Hall, Armoury and stables were gone. Wagons, wallwalks...any structure that was wood was destroyed...and then they were swept away and lifted into the air as they flew over Winter Town, also ablaze. Jaime’s arm tightened around Brienne and he brought her closer. She closed her eyes and tried not to imagine all of Westeros burning...or frozen. They had to succeed!

Jaime looked down at the forest and white roads speeding past them. It had taken him a week on horseback to travel the King’s Road. By dragon, it was under an hour, by his calculation, before he caught the dim lights of King’s Landing. A knot started forming in his gut. Cersei. He knew eventually he would have to face her. But now the thought of seeing the woman he once loved, his sister, his family, only filled him with dread. Would she welcome him back, and try to convince him to stay, he wondered? After everything, would she still want him back? Or was Tyrion was right? Would she try to kill him at the first chance she got? He would try to save her if he could. But he also knew he would destroy her if he had to. She was a threat to his future and to Brienne’s. But beyond that, he knew that if she felt threatened herself, she was a danger to all of King’s Landing. Was he now faced with saving that wretched city from yet another mad ruler?

He bent in closer to Brienne, feeling the tickle of her hair blowing on his cheek. The reassuring scent of her washed over him. He had a mad thought of turning this great beast around and heading over the Narrow Sea to Essos where they could hide and live happily in relative peace. Would they live as sellswords? Traveling the land, risking their lives for a mere pittance? As exciting as the thought was, no. He would find them a small, humble dwelling, perhaps by the sea. He could find work in a village. Perhaps as a guardsman. He would love her all his days, their children running along the sandy beaches, digging up clams for dinner, and at night, as a fire crackled in its hearth, he would pull her close to him and whisper his love into her ear as he brought her to her peak. The mere thought of it brought a warm sensation coursing through him. _Gods, he wanted her._ And as surprising as it was, he wanted that life! But the lights drew nearer and he knew that was all a dream. What was in store for them, he didn’t know.

He bent his mouth to her ear and whispered. “Almost there.” She squeezed his arm wrapped around her. She understood his dread.

The dragons silently circled the capitol, giving it a wide birth. If one person caught sight of them, you could be sure that the Gold Cloaks would know, and soon, the Queensguard would notify Cersei. They couldn’t take the risk of the Lannister army or perhaps now the Golden Company, sending out a search party for them. The dragons would know where to look for their lost brother, they would sense him, Dany was sure of it.

They flew far out into Blackwater Bay, the cold wind whipping their faces. Suddenly the dragons were on full alert. Both their massive heads swiveled in the same direction...back to land, north of the Red Keep. They swung around and grew closer to the city, landing near the coast, near the Iron Gate. They floated down, careful not to cause alarm with their presence. The darkness and snow hid their arrival.

They set down in a small clearing and they all quickly climbed off. Dany stepped off Drogon and doubled over, clutching a tree for support. Tyrion was at her side instantly, but Dany waved him away.

The dragons sniffed the air and again, they gave them their direction...south and up a treed incline directly in front of them, towards the city walls.

Dany straightened up and addressed the group. “They’re near.” She spoke a word of Valyrian to the beasts and they lowered their heads and stayed as the group quietly climbed the hill. When they neared the top, the air cooled significantly and they knew they had found what they were looking for. Through the trees, in another clearing, they saw them, the Night King and Viceryon. But there was no sign of Jon.

Jaime addressed the group. “I’ll go ahead.” Brienne protested but it was Berric that spoke up.

“No, Kingslayer, this is my calling. I feel it. It’s why I was brought back and it’s why I’m here now.” The look on his face made them all pause. “Look for Snow. I’ll meet the Night King.” Without waiting for a reply, he slipped away and they watched him crawl from tree to tree, slowly getting closer to the clearing.

“I’m going to circle around and see if I can’t see Jon.”, Jaime whispered.

“I’m coming with you. You need someone watching your back!”, Brienne whispered and Jaime nodded.

Dany, Tyrion and the Hound slowly crept closer as Jaime and Brienne made a wide berth around the clearing, hoping to catch a sight of anything that might tell them of Jon’s whereabouts. Through the trees they saw the Night King produce a long blade of ice and slowly move towards the edge of the clearing, only 20 feet away from where they stood. They ducked low and crawled towards him until they could make out a shape. It was Jon. Tied to a tree. He was alive.

Berric had seen Jon too. He stepped from the darkness and produced his sword. He swept his hand over it and it turned to flame. The Night King stopped and slowly turned to Berric. They stood for a moment facing each other, ice and fire. It was Berric who advanced first and the clearing was suddenly a show of light. Orange flame and blue ice met with a clash that echoed off the forest floor.

Attention diverted, Jaime and Brienne crept closer to the tree where Jon was tied and grabbed his hand from behind. Jon started but Jaime hissed, “Jon, it’s me, Jaime! Keep still!!!” He sawed at the ropes tying Jon to the tree until they gave way. The ropes dropped to the ground and Brienne slowly collected them. Jon ducked behind the tree. He was breathless.

“You’re here! I thought I was done for.”, he said looking back at the fighting.

“Come with us!”. Jaime pulled on Jon’s arm. “Daenerys is on the other side of the clearing. We can get away quickly.”

“I’m not leaving.”, Jon whispered.

“What...what are you talking about? We can get you out of here!”

“I’m NOT leaving. This needs to end.”

“Yes, YES! And Berric is attempting that right now. See?” Jaime gestured to where Berric and the Night King were battling it out. “Besides, you’ve lost your sword.”

Jon’s hand when to his empty belt. “I”ll find a way. This is up to me. I will see it done.”

“Good gods!”, Jaime muttered, shaking his head. “Then I will be there with you.”

“And I!”, Brienne said. Jaime turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “Try to stop me!”

Berric was tiring. His many fatal wounds had slowed him down throughout the years and it was at a moment of weakness when the Night King saw his advantage. Berric swung too wide and was caught in the side by the Night King’s sword. He screamed and fell to his knees, his body eventually slumping over and lay still. Berric’s sword of fire sizzled and went dark.

Out of the sky came Dany’s dragons, screeching and descending on the clearing. The Night King gestured for Viceryon, jumped onto his back and flew off into the snowy night. They all ran out from the trees and watched them disappear. The Hound and Tyrion knelt by Berric’s body and watched it slowly started to twitch. Tyrion turned to the Hound and an understanding passed between them.

“Not this time, my friend.”, the Hound growled. “This was your last.” The Hound slowly pushed his dragonglass blade into Berric’s chest and his body grew still.

Jon turned to Dany. “I need to go.”

“I know. Go. Take Drogon. He’ll know what to do.” Jon smoothed the hair away from her face.

Jaime walked over to where they stood but before he could say a word, Jon turned to him.

“No. You’re not coming. You’ve done enough. You need to deal with Cersei. Distract her. If she finds out I’m here she’ll send her army to stop us and I’ll never get a chance to end this.” Jaime knew this to be true. He hated the choice but Jon was right. Only he could stop her.

Jaime nodded and grabbed Jon’s arm. “Gods speed. We will talk when you’re back.” Jon nodded firmly.

Jaime turned to Brienne, putting his arm around her to talk privately, but she shook her head and gestured back to Dany and Jon. Dany had started to double over. She grabbed onto the front of Jon’s cloak and fell to her knees.

Tyrion ran to her side. “My Queen!”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Jon was holding her up with one arm and bringing her face to his with another. He turned to Tyrion. “What’s happened? What’s wrong with her?”

“She fell. From Drogon. She insisted she was fine...”

Sensing something was wrong, the two dragons came closer, their heads close to the ground, searching for her, breathing in the scent of her, their mother.

“Dany?” Jon said softly. “Dany. Tell me what I can do.”

Dany looked up into Jon’s face. “I had to find you.”

“Dany, please. Lie down here. I’ll find help.”

“No, Jon. You have to go. I’ll be fine. I just need to rest here.”

Tyrion, clearly worried, backed away. He knew this moment wasn’t for him.

Jon turned to them, frantic. “Take her back to Winterfell. Please! Take Reaghar. Hurry!!” The Hound bent to scoop her up in his arms but Dany’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Jon. We have no time for this. Go. You have to stop him...you’re the only one that can do it.”

Jon was shaking his head. “I can’t leave you like this.”

Dany’s head turned to where Berric’s sword lay, cold and dark. “It’s yours now. Use it. End it. And come back for me. I’ll be here.” Dany’s arm reached for Berric’s sword but she couldn’t quite touch it. “Please Jon. You must hurry.”

Jon stood and walked over to Berric’s sword. He slowly bent down and picked it up. As soon as his hand touched the hilt the sword burst into flame. Shocked, Jon dropped it and it once again fizzled out. He looked to Dany.

“You see, it’s yours now.” Dany said. “I knew it was yours.”

Jon bent to pick it up again, and once more it burst into flame. No one could move. Entranced, Jon studied it for a moment, turning it over in his hand.

“Go. Save your people.” Jon closed his eyes, summoning his courage, and walked to where Dany lay. He knelt beside her, held her face and kissed her.

“Someone needs to stay with her.” Jon called over his shoulder, his eyes still on Dany.

Heads turned, but it was the Hound who pulled his hand over his face and said, “I’ll stay. The rest of you bastards go do what you must.”

Jon gave Dany one last kiss on the forehead, hesitantly climbed onto Drogon and he disappeared into the dark sky in the same direction the Night King had. Tyrion and the Hound carried Dany into a sheltered spot and lay her head on the Hound’s lap, his discomfort clear.

Jaime tugged at Brienne’s waist and walked away into the treeline. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in his scent. Leather and metal and sweat. She loved the way he smelled, now becoming so familiar to her.

“I must go.”, Jaime said and pulled her away from him just enough to look into her blue eyes. “You need to stay here. And for god’s sake, keep Tyrion away from the Red Keep!”

“Absolutely not! ‘Stay by my side’, do you remember?”

Jaime sighed. He hated the thought of losing sight of her now, so near to danger. But he would not take the chance of enflaming Cersei’s anger with the sight of Brienne. He remembered how her face had hardened at the sight of Brienne in the dragon pit. He just would not risk Cersei’s wrath.

“I do remember. I do.”, he brought his lips to her cheek. “But you also know this is the one thing I must do alone. Everything I do now is for you. You are my life now and she is a threat to us. I need to either convince her to stand down, or …” Jaime’s voice faded. They both knew what he would have to do if she was unmoved.

Brienne brought her hand up to his cheek. “Do I have to stand back and watch you risk your life again and again?” He covered her hand with his own and kissed it.

“Perhaps just this last time.” He grinned and pulled her into his arms again. “I promise to return, my love.”, he whispered into her ear. “On my life. And then I will be yours forever.” He kissed her soundly, turned and walked into the shadows towards the Iron Gate.

Tyrion, witnessing the exchange from a short distance away, slowly walked towards Brienne where she stood watching Jaime leave.

“He’s a stubborn fool. I fear this will not go well.”

“I fear the same.”, Brienne said pensively.

Tyrion peered into the darkness and then back at Brienne, brows knit together, thinking. “You’re not honestly waiting for him here, are you?”

“Not on your life.”

Tyrion nodded. “You’ll need help. I know a way in. Follow me.”

*********

Jaime’s plan to enter the Red Keep was a simple one. Cersei wanted him captured and he knew the guards would bring him straight to his sister, so...captured he would be. He strode confidently to the Iron Gate where a group of dumbfounded Gold Cloaks eventually collected themselves enough to address him.

“Ser Jaime! We have orders to arrest you on sight.” They looked nervous and hesitantly turned to each other for confirmation.

Jaime looked at them squarely in the face. He knew these men. They were good men. _Good gods, he had taught many of them himself!_  

“Aha.”, he paused. “As I thought. And? Will you?”

They shuffled their feet and looked to him, unsure if he was serious or not. Would they truly arrest their former Captain?

One brave man stepped forward. “You are branded a traitor to the Crown. Ser.”

Jaime smiled derisively. “Yes, it seems I am branded a traitor to the Crown for wanting to save Westeros. For wanting to save your Queen from the worst kind of death. You’ve heard the rumours, haven’t you? Do you even know what’s coming your way?”, he scoffed. “Of course you don’t! She would have you believe they are merely fairytales. Children’s stories.” He stepped closer to them. His tone was deadly serious. He honestly wanted to save these men their lives.

“I’m here to warn you. What is coming your way is a nightmare come to life. I have just come from the North where we fought them and they just moved over us like water over stone, picking up pebbles along the way. And they are heading to King’s Landing as we speak, hoping to find a city unprepared. A city full of potential recruits. And they cannot be stopped with paltry metal.”, he waved his dagger at the swords pointed towards him. “You might as well throw those down and bend the knee now! They can only be stopped with these.” He lifted his weapons. “I don’t see a lot of dragonglass around here, do you? If I were you I would run to my home and family and get as far away from here as I could, unless you would rather be enlisted in the Army of the Dead. It’s time to save yourselves and those you love.” Jaime stopped and looked each man in the eye as he sheathed his sword. “Now. If that doesn’t truly terrify you, arrest me!”

*********

Tyrion and Brienne took a narrow, treacherous path on the cliffs behind the west side of the keep, facing the ocean. Brienne felt the spray of salt water on her face, made colder by the mingling of snow and sleet. They scoured the wall looking for a tunnel Tyrion knew to be there. The entrance was hidden by the rocks and crags and vines that covered it.

They walked down the long narrow tunnel, slipped into a storage room in the Red Keep from a small hatch on the floor, and opened the door a crack watching for guards. Tyrion knew these hallways and corridors well and he knew the guards’ routines. Quickly and quietly, they slipped past a group of men gathered at the far end of a long hallway. After a maze of corridors they entered a door that led to the hallway to the Throne Room. There was a line of Queensguard outside the doors. There was no avoiding them here.

“I’ll create a distraction.”, Tryion whispered. “They know me. I’ll likely be arrested but that will give you time to slip into the Throne Room.”

“I’m not risking your capture, Lord Tyrion. Jaime would kill me. Wait here.” Tyrion hardly had time to protest before Brienne flung open the door and strode down the hallway towards the guards.

“ _My gods, she’s either mad or magnificent…_ ” Tyrion muttered.

“Lords, I bid you let me enter. I need to see the Queen.” Brienne pronounced before the Queensguard who were momentarily stunned by the vision of an enormous woman clad in mail and metal boldly walking towards them.

“And who the bloody hell are you? How did you get in here?”

“Who I am is of little consequence. It’s a matter of urgency. A matter of life and death. And I need to speak to the Queen.”

“Like hell you do!” The guards, now angry at her presumptuousness, advanced on her. Brienne instantly drew her sword and stood at the ready.

“You may try, but I can assure you that it will not turn out well for you.” She raised Oathkeeper. “Do you know what this is?”, she asked, turning it over so the torchlight caught the reflections in the blade. “It’s Valyrian steel and it’s the only thing stopping the dead army from marching right over Kings Landing. You should see the devastation this does to the dead. Shall we see what it does to human flesh?”

“You can’t frighten us. Woman! If that’s what you are!”

Brienne narrowed her eyes. “Very well.” The first guard swung at Brienne but she ducked, turned and lunged. In moments she had the man flat against the wall, Oathkeeper at his throat.

“And what say you now?” The man blinked and swallowed but he held firm.

“I will die for my Queen.”

“Then you have your wish.” The Lannister soldier tried to push Brienne away to free his arm, but Brienne’s reach was longer and she had the advantage. She stepped back and before he could lunge, Oathkeeper sailed past the man’s face, opening his throat. He doubled over, blood pouring out of his neck and spreading over his gold armour and white cloak.

“Who’s next?” The rest of the guards, stunned by the quick dispatch of their comrad, charged Brienne.

*********

She sat on the Iron Throne, back straight and rigid, coldly beautiful as always. The room was filled with tall pillared candlesticks and the glow of them lit up the Lannister lion above her. Jaime was surprised to see the Mountain the only guard at her side. He started to lumber down the steps towards Jaime, but she stilled him with a slight gesture of her hand. The Gold Cloaks pushed Jaime in front of them and walked him down the long room towards her. He stopped at a safe distance but he saw clearly the ice in her eyes. Hard, glinting dark eyes that once could hold him in her power. Eyes that at one time, could either seduce or silence him.

She waved the Queensguard away and they turned and left the room, along with Widow’s Wail and his dagger.

“Brother. You’ve come home.”, she said icily.

“I’ve come to save you.” She laughed a wicked laugh.

“Save me! Save ME? From what? Did your little monsters drive you from your new home?” She laughed again. “But you see, I don’t need saving.”

“Cersei, you don’t understand...”

“Understand?? Oh yesss,”, she hissed, “I understand. I understand that my own brother, my one...true...love.,” she spat the words out,” ... abandoned me when I needed him. When all our enemies gathered to do us away. When our family’s future was in peril, he slipped away to the North to fight with bastards and pretenders! Our enemies! And he DARED take Lannister armies with him! But... while he was away, I have found that I didn’t need him after all! You see, my dearest brother, that’s what I understand now.”

“They are NOT your enemies!” Jaime pointed North, taking a few quick steps up to where Cersei sat. The Mountain moved towards him but again, Cersei stopped him with a wave. “THAT is what you don’t understand! The North, Dany and her armies, THEY are not your enemy! The dead, who are marching on this city, THEY are your enemies! The Night King is already here!”

“And you are here to save me from this Night King, this new enemy, when you weren’t even prepared to defend me against the enemies we know.”

“I would have died for you, if only you would have marched our armies north.” Cersei stopped and stared at Jaime for a moment. Was that a look of sadness he saw? If it was, it was quickly gone.

“I don’t need you, my love. Euron had done what you refused. He has brought back the Golden Company. They will defend me when you wouldn’t.”

“Cersei. They are _not enough_! You don’t know what comes for you!” She smiled coldly.

“I have an idea. And if it comes for me, I have all I need to burn them to the ground. They will not take me, I can assure you, brother.” Cersei rose from the throne, facing him directly. The cold look in her eyes sent a chill through him. Of course, she had all the firepower at her fingertips. Wildfire. Stashes of it buried all over the city. Just as Aerys threatened to do to his enemies. She would take down the Army of the Dead and all of King’s Landing with them.

Jaime went cold. Visions of men burning alive in their armour washed through his mind. His head swam and for a moment his vision wavered. He knew what he had to do. But could he do it?

“You know I can’t let you do this.”

“And how do you propose to stop me? Are you going to cut me down like you did the Mad King?  Kingslayer wasn’t enough for you? Queenslayer as well?”

Jaime took a step towards her.  “You _can’t_ do this.”

“Step AWAY from me!” The Mountain closed in on Jaime. Jaime’s breath quickened and his nostrils flared. He held up his arms, showing them he was unarmed.

“You’ve threatened to kill me once and you couldn’t do it.”

“And that was a mistake. Believe me, brother, it’s not one I’ll make again.”

“I truly loved you, Cersei. There was a time I would have done anything for you.” Jaime’s heart was pounding in his chest. He pleaded with his eyes, hoping to appeal to any shred of humanity she might still possess. But all he saw was darkness.

“And I, you. Once.” Cersei’s eyes flicked towards the door and hardened into ice. “But I see you’ve brought your blonde-haired cunt with you.”

 _Brienne!_ She had followed him? Why had she done that? He instinctively turned his head to the door. Cersei gave the Mountain a quick nod. He took one step forward and plunged his sword under Jaime’s armour and into his chest. In shock, Jaime turned back to Cersei and saw a blade emerge from the front of Cersei’s neck.

“No more, sweet sister.” A terrible look of surprise came over her face and she crumpled to the floor, revealing Tyrion, standing on the Iron Throne, a bloody knife in his hand. His face fell when he saw Jaime collapse to his knees, his armour crashing on the stone floor.

For an instant, Jaime stayed there until he looked down at his chest and saw the blood seeping out of him. He slumped to his side and onto his back. He saw the vaulted ceiling far above him. And lights. A million bright lights shooting up into the night’s sky.

“JAI-ME!!!!”

Brienne was at his side. So was Tyrion. Tyrion? How did Tyrion get here? How did he always find him?

“JAIME!!! JAIME, NO!!! ” Brienne was bent over him, holding his head, screaming his name. He felt the edges of his sight start to darken. He couldn’t see anything but her panicked blue eyes.

“Brienne.”, he whispered. He found the strength to find her hand with his. She grabbed onto it and held it tight.

“I’LL SAVE YOU! I’LL SAVE YOU, JAIME! PLEASE DON’T GO!” She begged and pleaded and screamed as the darkness swallowed his vision and he slipped away.

Brienne felt him go limp in her arms. She didn’t see Tyrion fall to his knees in front of them, tears streaming down his face. She didn’t see Cersei lying mere feet away, a pool of blood growing around her, eyes still wide with surprise, staring at them sightlessly. She didn’t see Bronn burst into the room, alerted by her screams, followed by the Queensguard. She didn’t see the Mountain tenderly gather Cersei into his monstrous arms and fall back into the darkness of the room. If a thousand wights had descended on her now, she would not move to defend herself.

She sobbed as she kissed his still face and neck, her hands and knees now soaked in his blood. She clutched his hand, pulled off his glove and brought it to her face, to feel his touch. Her cheek felt cold, smooth metal and she held his hand to see it. On his pinky was a solid band of gold. Around it were engraved suns, moons and stars. Brienne blinked to clear the tears from her eyes. She pulled it from his finger and inside the band were engraved the words, “My bright light.” Brienne’s face crumpled and her entire body shook with grief.

“I will, my love. I will. Always.” She buried her face in his neck and broke wide open.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The city was in chaos. The battle horn never stopped. She heard the screech of dragons above and screams of people below. They were streaming out of their homes, chased by the dead army. Soldiers, all with different coloured crests, chased them down the streets of King’s Landing, some overcoming the dead, some falling to them.
> 
> Brienne’s breathing became rapid and her heart pounded with that familiar rhythm. She was a warrior, dammit, and they needed her, however hopeless the cause. She swore an oath to fight, and so she would fight. She would fight for Jaime. And if she fell, then she would die an honourable death, as he had. Not wasting away in grief.

Jon circled King’s Landing for what seemed like hours, his mind half on Dany. The wind and snow made it difficult to see anything below and he would have been half-frozen were it not for the fact that he was sitting atop a fire-breathing dragon. He could feel the heat emanating from Drogon below him.

They flew in ever-widening circles, the blowing snow a credible shield from eyes below, hoping Drogon would once again find his brother by senses alone. Farther and farther they flew, out near the Riverlands, up and around Dragonstone and back around to King’s Landing. Jon was starting to feel frustration setting in. What was the Night King’s plan, anyway? Had he flown back to the North to meet his army? Was he in hiding, waiting for his army near the capitol? That might take days and Jon wanted an end now, before the hoard descended on King’s Landing and started to double their ranks.

Jon and Drogon made one more wide sweep around the city but as they flew over the Kingswood, Jon was sure he saw lights below. A thousand or more. Quietly, they circled around and flew lower. The lights were fires from a thousand campfires and the mouth of the Wendwater was full of ships baring plain, unadorned gold flags. The Golden Company had arrived and had taken up camp in the woods below King’s Landing, lying in wait for whatever was to come. A dead army or a Northern army, it didn’t matter.  _ Damn Cersei! _ , he thought. She had been clever. The Golden Company was an army of 10,000. Without any knowledge of the dead army, they were not enough to stop them, but were the North to prevail, the Company plus the Lannister forces and Euron’s Iron fleet might be enough to hold back Dany’s eventual rebellion, depleted at they were.

Jon couldn’t think about that yet. His only concern right now was finding the Night King. Drogon flew back around to Dragonstone and settled on the walls, looking out towards the narrow sea. Jon had his mind half-settled on flying back to see Dany, to assure himself that she was alright, when out of the snow and wind, he thought he saw something far out in the water. He squinted against the dark until he saw a shadow and then a shape. And one by one, more emerged from the fog. They were ships, many ships, heading straight for Blackwater Bay. He saw banners but couldn’t make them out.

With only a nudge, Drogon lifted off the high walls of Dragonstone and settled on the cliffs closer to the shore. Jon walked to the edge to see better as the ships closed in on The Gullet.

A red firey hand adorned their banners and there were easily a hundred ships. It wasn’t something Jon immediately recognized, but he didn’t miss the similarities to the firey red heart of Stannis Barratheon. The red priestess. Melisandre. The last time he had seen her, he had sent her away from King’s Landing on Davo’s insistence. If this was her doing, was she now here for retribution? Dammit, but he needed his Northern army and Dany’s! They were either stuck at Winterfell fighting off the last of the dead or making their way south. The only consolation was that the Army of the Dead traveled by foot and it would take days to reach King’s Landing. His hope was that their armies were traveling south by ship and could get ahead of the dead, meeting them once again in battle before they reached the capitol.

Jon quickly climbed back onto Drogon and turned to fly back to King’s Landing when he spotted another set of ships sailing south along the shoreline, rounding Claw Isle. His heart leapt. Could it be his armies? He flew towards them, hoping to find his ships and the grey banner of the Starks, but instead he saw the massive sails of the Iron Fleet. Why were they sailing from the North? His stomach dropped. Had they moved in on the Northern armies, hoping to decimate what was left after the dead had started to move south? It was a plan so vile that he knew it could have only come from Cersei Lannister. Kick an enemy while they were down.

He drew closer to the ships, still keeping a distance in case Euron saw him and decided to take him and Drogon down. He couldn’t afford to lose another of Dany’s children.

However, what he saw as he flew closer was worse than anything Cersei could have dreamed up. Every one of Euron’s ships was filled to capacity with dead, rotting corpses.

The Army of the Dead had reached King’s Landing.

******************

“The Queen is dead! Arrest them!” The handful of Queensguard that had burst into the Throne Room with Bronn raised their swords and moved towards Tyrion and Brienne but Bronn held up his arm and stopped them.

“Yes, the Queen is dead. And now you’d arrest your new King?” The men looked to each other and Bronn quizzically.

“Ser Jaime Lannister is dead as well. Her next of kin. Which makes Tyrion Lannister the last Lannister, next in line. Do I have to do the fucking math for you? Tyrion is bloody King of Westeros!”

Tyrion’s face turned a shade of green. “I - I - I don’t want this! The crown is Queen Daenerys’s by right!”, he hissed at Bronn.

“Doesn’t bloody matter what you want, eh? It just is.” Bronn lowered his voice. “Just stand back and let me save your bloody head, eh?”, he winked at him and addressed the guards. “Now everyone fucking out!! Fetch the Sisters. Ser Jaime has fallen.” The Queensguard all bowed to Tyrion and hurried out of the room.

Tyrion and Bronn stood back and watched Brienne holding Jaime’s body. “That lucky cunt always got what he wanted, didn’he?”, Bronn mused.

“Not nearly as often as you think.”, Tyrion replied sadly.

Brienne ignored everyone around her. She sat on the cold, stone floor, holding Jaime’s head in her lap, stroking his hair absently. Her crying had stopped. She felt her heart had stopped as well. She started to feel herself going numb. Let them arrest her. Let them lock her up and forget about her. There was no living in this world without him.

They all sat quietly, waiting for the Silent Sisters to take Jaime’s body away, when out of the darkness of the room, two women materialized. One older, one younger. They were dressed similar, in red robes and moved towards Brienne, their eyes on Jaime’s still body. Brienne raised her heavy head, her swollen eyes red-rimmed and pale. She recognized one of the women. Stannis’s red woman! The priestess! She was on her feet in an instant.

“ _ You stay away from him, or by all the gods I’ll have your bloody head!!! _ ”

The older woman just smiled sadly. The younger one ignored Brienne and turned to the older one. “The battle is not here. Why this one? What is he to the Lord of Light?”

The older women answered the younger, but looked directly at Brienne when she did. “Because he has much left to do. And a life is owed. The Lord of Light commands it.”

“What are you...what are you saying? Stay away from him! You’re...you’re evil!”, Brienne was starting to shake. Her sword was so heavy, she hardly had the strength to hold it up.  

“Wait, Brienne.”, Tyrion held up his arm to hold Brienne back. “Just wait.” He moved towards Melisandre. “You will do him no harm?”

“I will not, Lord Tyrion. You have my word. He is needed.”

Tyrion looked back at Brienne and slowly walked towards her. He put his hand on Oathkeeper and slowly lowered it to the ground. She gave up and let the tip fall to the floor. She turned and walked back to where Jaime lay, sat down heavily and put her hands to her head.  _ Doesn’t matter anymore _ ., she thought.  _ What could they do to him? He’s gone. _

Both women joined her, sitting on the cold stone floor on either side of Jaime’s body. Melisandre laid her hand on Jaime’s head. “He is still warm.” They closed their eyes and they started to chant over and over. Foreign words. Ancient words. Dark words.

Brienne kept her head in her hands. Her whole body started to shake. There had been rumours back in Winterfell about Melisandre and what she had done for Jon, but she hadn’t believed it. This was dark magic and she wanted no part of it but at the same time, she couldn’t make herself stand up to leave. They kept chanting the same words over and over.

Tyrion stood back, his eyes wide. Bronn watched as well, but with a lot more skepticism.

The younger woman suddenly opened her eyes and the chanting stopped. They looked to each other, stood up and stepped away.

Brienne’s head came up and she looked to Jaime. Nothing. He lay as cold and still had he had when they got there. Her heart fell again. What had she expected?

“GO. AWAY!!!”, she screamed and the women, with sympathetic eyes, disappeared once more into the darkness.

“Forget the bloody Sisters. Let’s bring him to his rooms.” Tyrion put a hand on Brienne’s shoulder. “Help us move him.” Brienne looked up at Tyrion, tears falling freely once more but she nodded, stood and helped Bronn gently carry Jaime away.

******************

Brienne helped Bronn unbuckle Jaime’s armour and gently pull it off of his body. His leather and tunic were soaked in blood. Bronn carefully lifted it to reveal the long, bloody gash in his side. “Poor bastard.” Brienne turned her head, she just couldn’t see him like this.

Bronn pulled a clean tunic from Jaime’s wardrobe and bound it around Jaime’s wound. Tyrion walked to the bed where he lay, gazed at him a moment and then reached up to kiss Jaime on the forehead. “Goodbye, brother. You had to leave me alone with all this, didn’t you?” He choked on the words but turned to Brienne, who stood on the balcony looking out. “We’ll fetch the sisters. And give you some time.” Tyrion motioned to Bronn and they left the room.

Brienne didn’t move. She stood motionless, breathing in the cool air, watching the city at night, lights twinkling from a million homes, a million lives, going on as if nothing had happened. What was she to do now? Now that he was gone? Her life felt at bleak as it had before she met Jaime on another dark night, but in the Riverlands. He had been prisoner then, as she was now. She closed her eyes and saw the long road they had walked together, back to this cursed place. How he had saved her. How she had saved him. Tears streamed down her face and she gasped as the incredible loss started to sink in. How would she survive this?

She lay Oathkeeper gently on a table and tore off her armour, throwing it to the ground. She looked down at her hands, dried red with Jaime’s blood. The ring on her finger caked with it. She bolted the door, walked to the bed and lay down beside him, pulling the furs close around them, curling her body around his. Protecting him. No one would touch him again.

She lay there for a long time, breathing in his scent, touching his face, smoothing his beard, tracing the scars from battles he had fought. Whispering to him. Telling him all the things her stupid pride wouldn’t let her say when he was with her. Secret things she had never told another living soul. Living. And it remained so.

She heard a battle horn blow outside but she didn’t move. She thought of Jon and wondered if he had found the Night King. Was Jon dead as well? She thought of the Queen, hurt and waiting in the woods for him. She thought of her father back on Tarth. If Jon failed she would never see him again. There was nothing she could do now to prevent it. If all of King’s Landing fell and burned to the ground, she would remain here and breathe her last breath with him by her side.

Her eyes grew heavy and she longed to escape into oblivion.

“Goodnight, my love.” She kissed him one last time, his lips now growing cold, and she closed her eyes and lost herself to the darkness.

******************

At some point in the night, deep in dreams of wights and walkers, something woke her. Had the dead army arrived? She hurried from the bed and ran to the balcony overlooking the city.

The city was in chaos. The battle horn never stopped. She heard the screech of dragons above and screams of people below. They were streaming out of their homes, chased by the dead army. Soldiers, all with different coloured crests, chased them down the streets of King’s Landing, some overcoming the dead, some falling to them.

Brienne’s breathing became rapid and her heart pounded with that familiar rhythm. She was a warrior, dammit, and they needed her, however hopeless the cause. She swore an oath to fight, and so she would fight. She would fight for Jaime. And if she fell, then she would die an honourable death, as he had. Not wasting away in grief.

She started to reach for her sword when she heard a whisper from behind her. She jumped. Had the sisters arrived and found a way into the room? Or was it wights? Was she now to find her end at the hands of the dead? She turned, but the room was dark and empty. Her heart beat rapidly.

“Brienne.” 

It was just a whisper. She froze. Someone was in the room. It wasn’t empty. She moved quickly to where she had set down Oathkeeper and searched the dark room for shadows, for a figure. She saw nothing.

“Brienne.” 

She raised her sword again. Her arm now starting to shake.

“Reveal yourself!!”, she yelled into the darkness.

“Brienne? Is it you?” The voice was raspy but stronger.  _ Familiar _ .

A chill went through her entire body.  _ No!  _ She listened again but there was only silence. With limbs that felt like lead weights, she slowly crept towards the bed, cloaked in shadows. Heart thudding, her eyes moved slowly up the pile of furs, to where Jaime’s body lay until they met a pair of green eyes, looking back at her. 

Oathkeeper slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor.

“ _ Jaime? _ ” Her voice was shaking. “ _ Jaime _ ...” She reached to grab his hand and she felt warmth. He squeezed back, just slightly, and her hand jumped in his. His eyes looked foggy, confused. Scared.

“Brienne?” His vision cleared and she saw recognition. He sighed and closed his eyes again but a small smile crept onto his face.

She gasped, her heart slammed against her rib cage. “Yes..YES, it’s me, Jaime!” Brienne broke into sobs and buried her face in his neck. His warm neck. She wanted to ask how this was real but she couldn’t get the words out. She clung to him and breathed his name over and over. He took a quick breath in and winced. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m hurt. I got hurt. In battle? Where are we?”

“Yes, my love, you’re hurt. We’re in King’s Landing. We’re in your rooms.”

“My rooms.” He winced again and she watched him breath that beautiful breath. She saw his chest slowly move up and down. She watched his eyelashes flutter and open again. She didn’t care if it was dark magic or spells or whatever the hells it was.  _ Jaime was alive! _

“Yes, Jaime. In King’s Landing.”

“Jon. He...needs me.” His brows knit together in concern. A huge smile spread over her pale face.

“Jon will be fine. The battle will go on without us.” She gazed at him, her heart filling up again.

“Brienne. I’m so cold, so...tired…” She pulled the furs up and around his chin.

“Lay still, my love. Just rest. I’m going to take care of you. I’ll keep watch.”

His eyes closed again and she touched his cheek. Warmth. She bent and kissed him softly, his beard scratching her chin. Warm lips. Her head was spinning. She had saved him. She, who had once taken Renly from her, had given her back Jaime. A small laugh bubbled up inside her and escaped. She felt giddy and she sent a thank you up to the gods...the Lord of Light, the Old Gods, the New...whichever one had given him back to her, she thanked them. Then she did something she hadn’t done since she was a young girl. She prayed to the gods for victory. Their futures now depended on it.

Brienne rose to start a fire to warm the chilled room and for the rest of the night, as the battle raged on, Brienne lay beside Jaime, Oathkeeper close to her side, and watched his chest rise and fall. Rise and fall.

Rise...and fall.

******************

A knock on the door woke her as the light streamed into the window. She had fallen asleep! Her heart thudding, she turned to Jaime and realized she had placed her hand on his chest the entire night, feeling him breathe, afraid that at some point in the night it would stop and he would be lost to her once more. She felt the soft thud of his heart under her hand. He was still with her! In the light of day she saw the blood had come back into this face. His cheeks were warm and pink once more and she let out a rush of breath as she gazed at the man she loved, deep in sleep. Sleep. Alive.  _ Thank the gods! _

Another knock. She crept quietly from the bed, picked up Oathkeeper and stood on the other side of the door listening.

_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _ Brienne jumped away from the door.

“Who’s there?”, she hissed. No one answered. She crept to the door, pulling it open quickly, ready to do battle if necessary.

Tyrion, tired and grey-faced, jumped at having Oathkeeper thrust in his face and almost knocked over the Silent Sisters who followed behind him. He precariously held a tray of food, presumably for her. Of course for her! He didn’t yet know.

“Lady Brienne.”, he grimaced. “Good, you’re awake. I brought you some food and the…”

“Shhhh..”. She put her finger to her lips and let Tyrion in, waving away the sisters as he entered.

“Why on earth are you shushing...” Tyrion looked at the bed, and then looked again. “...me.” The tray of food fell to the floor.

“He’s breathing.” Tyrion didn’t take his eyes off Jaime.

“Yes. He is.” Brienne was beaming.

“He’s breathing.”, Tyrion said again and his face broke into a incredulous smile. “How…?” He turned to Brienne. “Melisandre?”

“I don’t know how and I don’t care. He’s alive.”

Tyrion slowly walked to the bed, staring at his brother, the last living Lannisters.

“Has he spoken?”

“Yes, late last night. He had few words, he was disoriented and tired, so I let him sleep.”

“Does he know?”

“No, I don’t think he remembered anything. At least not last night.”

“Seven hells.” He turned to Brienne. “We need the Maester. I’ll go.”

“I’m not leaving his side.”

“Yes. Of course.” He turned to go but stopped and turned back to Brienne. “I’m happy for you, Lady Brienne.” There was joy but also a sadness in his voice. He turned again to go.

“Lord Tyrion. What of the battle?”

“Well...you’ll notice that King’s Landing has not  _ completely _ burned to the ground? The Night King is defeated.” He flashed her a jubilant smile that never reached his eyes. “But there is…news. I’ll explain when I’m back.” Tyrion left, shutting the door behind him.

Could it be true? They were saved and Jaime was alive. Hope grew in her chest. She walked to the balcony once more and looked out. Massive plumes of smoke billowed from all around the city. Many houses and buildings were mere rubble on the ground. The streets were littered with corpses, some long dead, some newly fallen. There had been massive casualties. Soldiers lined the city walls that were left standing as far as she could see. Brienne felt a small amount of regret that she hadn’t joined the battle again.

She returned to the room and bent to pick up the fallen tray of food. She then rekindled the fire. She needed him warm when he woke.

Jaime fought his way up from a thick fog. His arms and legs felt heavy, immovable, but he strained to break through to the surface. The light grew and grew until it touched his eyelids and he felt it’s warmth. Consciousness broke through and he felt cold air on his face. He swallowed. His throat was thick and dry. He smelled smoke. Panic brought him fully awake and his eyes flew open.

“Brienne?”, he croaked.

“Jaime. I’m here.” Brienne rushed to the bed and sat beside him. She clasped his hand in hers and searched his face.

“I smell fire.”

“No, Jaime, it’s only the hearth. Are you warm? How do you feel?”

“Ah.” He sighed and squeezed her hand. “I feel...I feel...like I’ve been fighting for bloody days.”

She smiled and stroked his face, kissing his hand. “You have been fighting, my love. And you’ve won.”

He smiled, turned his head to the side and opened tired eyes to look deep into hers. His eyes were a vivid green. “Did you fight with me? I can’t...seem to remember.”

“Yes, I fought by your side, my love. As I said I would.”

He smiled weakly at her again. “My lady warrior.”

She blushed. “Are you thirsty?”

“More than I can tell you.”

“Let me get you some water.” She went to the side table where the pitcher of water sat. A little had remained and she poured it into a cup for him.

“Is Jon alive?”

She turned back to him. “I don’t know. I do know that the battle is won. Shhhh, drink this.”

He strained to sit up and Brienne set the glass down to help him. She brought the cup to his lips and he drank thirstily, but he stopped suddenly and clenched Brienne’s arm.

“Cersei.” His eyes grew wide and he looked at Brienne. Here it was, she thought, bracing herself.

“What do you remember?”

“I remember...I went to see her. To...warn her. To stop her. We argued. And I remember a knife.” Brienne bit her lip. “She’s dead isn’t she?”

Brienne nodded. “Yes, Jaime, Cersei is dead.”

His eyes grew wide again. He nodded, letting that fact sink in.

“Did I kill her?”

“No. You didn’t.”

“Then...who did?

Just then Tyrion quietly opened the door, the old Maester in tow, breathing heavily. Tyrion stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Jaime sitting up.

“Jaime.”

“Tyrion.” Jaime’s face was pensive. “You were there.” Tyrion knew exactly what Jaime spoke of. He walked to the bed hesitantly.

“Jaime. Brother. It’s… good...to see you. Awake. We have much to discuss, but please, let the Maester examine you first.”

Jaime only nodded absently. They could see him working out the events of the night before in his mind. How long would it take before he remembered it all?

The Maester hobbled over to Jaime, setting his bag of implements on the side table and began to examine him. He felt Jaime’s pulse and held his head to his chest. He pulled back the furs to reveal his tunic, now dried with a good deal of blood. He lifted it and began prodding the wound. Tyrion and Brienne peeked around the Maester and to their astonishment, saw that the wound had closed itself, forming a red, jagged, raised line from his waist to his chest.

“This wound looks like it was a nasty one but is weeks old!”, the old Maester said. “You said he was hurt last night? How could this be?” Jaime looked at him quizzically and then to Brienne and Tyrion.

“Are you in pain, Ser Jaime?”, the Maester continued to prod at the wound, looking Jaime over completely.

“It aches a good deal, but that’s all. I just feel so...tired.”

“Then there’s naught much else I can do for you but tell you to get some rest. And you must eat. I’ll send for more food but I will come back later to check on you.” The Maester gathered up his things, gave Tyrion a quick bow and a odd look, but left the room.

The silence was thick.

“Tell me, Tyrion.” Tyrion sent Brienne a quick look for help and then went to sit beside the bed.

“It’s best if you remember events yourself.”

“But I’m not. Tell me what happened.” A deep groove formed between Tyrion’s eyebrows but he began.

Piece by piece Tyrion and Brienne recounted the events of the night before, as much as they could. Jaime wasn’t happy that they had decided to follow him.

“How did you get past the guards?”

Tyrion looked sheepish. “We took the old east tunnel that runs under the Red Keep, the hidden one, along Aegon’s High Hill. You know the one.”

Jaime was angry. “Yes, I know the one. I also asked you not to follow me. To stay safe.” He turned to Brienne as well. She raised her chin.

“You weren’t safe going in alone. I swore I would stay by your side and I did. As much as I... could, anyway.” 

Jaime softened. “You and your bloody oaths.” 

Brienne came to sit beside Jaime on the bed and held his hand. He squeezed her hand back.

They were missing the largest piece of the story, which they were hoping Jaime would provide.

“We heard you arguing with Cersei. Do you remember that?”, Tyrion asked.

“Yes, that I remember. She wouldn’t listen. As usual. I don’t know why I thought she would, but I told her I wanted to save her. She just wouldn’t listen. She said she would take down King’s Landing if she needed to and...and I...told her I couldn’t let her do that.” His face changed. He was there, in the room. He started to see the events play out in front of him.

“She saw you.”, he turned to Brienne. “And then the Mountain…” Impossible to stop them, Brienne’s eyes started to well up with tears, her grief still so near to the surface. She was there too, seeing the sword shoved into his side.

Jaime turned to Tyrion. “You were there. It was  _ you _ that killed Cersei. The knife.”

“Yes.” Tyrion bowed his head for a moment and then brought his eyes up to meet Jaime’s squarely. “At the same time she killed you. I was trying to save your bloody life, you idiot, but I too late.”

“Killed me?” Brienne felt tremors run through Jaime’s hand. She put her warm hand on his face and turned it to hers.

“Yes, Jaime. I saw it all. Cersei ordered the Mountain to kill you, and you died in my arms.” She kept her hand on his face to steady him, watching the rush of memory and emotions wash across it. It took several moments for that to sink in and for Jaime to collect himself enough to speak.

“If that’s true...then how am I here now?” His voice was calm but Brienne felt him tremble.

A knock at the door interrupted them and Tyrion went to answer it.

Brienne moved up on the bed, closer to Jaime, and brought her face close to his. “After everything that we have seen. Everything that we’ve witnessed, I don’t want to question this. I don’t understand it myself...”, she smiled at him, “...but it seems the gods knew I needed you.” She wrapped her strong arms around him and held him as tightly as she dared, breathing in the scent of him, feeling his breath on her neck, feeling his quick heartbeat against hers.

“You watched me die?”, he whispered. She could only nod, the tears now trickling down her face. He pulled her away to look into her eyes and saw the tears. He wiped them away with his thumb and bent his forehead to hers. “I’m so sorry, Brienne.”, he breathed, hardly able to believe it all.

“You’re here and you’re alive and that’s all that matters.” He smiled and smoothed the hair away from her face.

“You should both eat something.” Tyrion brought over bowls of hot broth and bread. While Jaime and Brienne ate, Tyrion recounted the news of the battle. Jaime was relieved to hear that Jon lived. Tyrion had found him on the steps of the Red Keep, just before dawn, and they had shared their news.

As best that Jon could tell, Euron and the Iron Fleet had escorted the Golden Company back to Westeros and had indeed headed north to finish off what was left of the northern forces. They hadn’t anticipated that the dead army would be sweeping across the coast and had decimated the Iron Fleet. Led by Walkers, they boarded their ships for King’s Landing. As far as Jon knew, Euron was dead.

The dead army had landed at Blackwater Bay just behind the slave army of the Firey Hand, led by Melisandre, there to join the North to fight the dead. The Night King had appeared once again to lead his army to battle just when the Golden Company and Lannister forces met them at the city gates. Once they realized who the true enemy was, they had quickly joined the Firey Hand to try to take down the dead. Sometime in the night, the Northern armies, the Dothraki and the Unsullied arrived. The battle had been of epic proportions. Jon still didn’t know the final numbers but the Westerosi armies had been massively depleted by the time he was able to gather a few men and fight his way to the Night King.

He had found him in the Dragon Pit, standing atop the walls, looking over the battle passively while several of his Walkers stood guard on the outer perimeter of the walls. When he saw Jon arrive with Tormund, Greyworm and Qhono of the Dothraki, he had mounted Viceryon and had fought Jon, mid-air while the men fought the Walkers below. They were losing ground when Dany and the Hound flew in on Rheagar and descended on the scene. The Hound had joined the men on the ground while it was clear that Dany meant to take out the Night King herself.

Jon caught her eye and it was also clear she was in pain. She clung to the back of Rheagar tightly, her head low but she was determined to hang on. They battled on. The dragons, now two against one, did their best to unseat the Night King.

It was just at the moment where Jon thought they were gaining an advantage that the Night King pulled out his ice lance, aimed and caught Rheagar squarely in the neck. He screamed and fell from the sky, landing in the middle of the Dragon Pit. It’s only then that Jon saw, to his horror, that the lance had not only pierced the dragon, but Dany as well. She hung limply from the back of Rheagar, eyes wide open, staring sightlessly. The Mother of Dragons was dead.

Jon’s devastation had quickly turned to fury. He recklessly charged the Night King, diving beneath Viceryon and flung his dragonglass dagger upwards into his belly. Viceryon screeched but didn’t fall. Drogon drowned them in fire and still they didn’t fall, sending back blue ice fire. Jon and Drogon narrowly escaped it. In absolute frustration, Jon threw his firey sword and caught Viceryon beneath his wing...directly into his heart. Viceryon fell with a shreek, his body landing solidly on top of the wall of the dragon pit, pulling it down with him and tumbled, along with the Night King, on the far side of the pit.

Drogon followed his path and before he had a chance to land, Jon jumped from his back and hit the ground hard, rolling onto his back beside Rheagar. He had to recover his sword. He turned to pull himself up and came face to face with Dany, now fully reanimated. A great wound in the middle of her chest, her beautiful face cooling, her eyes blank as they turned to ice. He took a step back, horrified. Devastated. But her face quickly turned deadly. With breaking heart, he had pulled out the last dragonglass dagger he had on him and had carefully plunged it into her side. Her face went blank once more as she clung to him for a moment and then shattered into a million pieces on the ground. With the same dagger, he had walked around Rheagar’s body to his head and plunged it into the side of his temple. As Dany had done, Rheagar broke apart and fell at Jon’s feet, along with his dagger.

Drogon flying in circles, had screamed his grief above them. 

Clutching the arm he had fallen on, Jon fell to his knees just in time to see the Night King, unscathed, rounding Viceryon and heading towards him. He stood directly in between Jon and his sword, his only line of defense.

Just as Jon had thought he was finished, he heard a low, menacing growl. He got to his feet as three wolves stepped from behind him. Grey Wind led Ghost and Nymeria as they slowly stepped in front of Jon and advanced towards the Night King, their teeth bared, death in their eyes. With a signal from Grey Wind, they attacked.

It gave Jon time to retrieve his sword from the belly of Viceryon, turn and thrust it solidly into the back of the Night King.

A great scream, as Jon had never heard, rose up from the King of the dead. Jon pulled the sword from his back and the King fell, a burst of light appeared from his wound. It sent up a massive column of light into the dark night sky. At the same moment, every Walker and wight throughout Westeros fell to the ground.

The battle was over. The war was won. But not without its’ losses.

Tormund and Greyworm had survived their duels with the Walkers. They had been able to keep them at bay until they fell with the Night King. Qhono and the Hound had not.

The wolves had disappeared back into the woods beyond King’s Landing but not before Grey Wind loped up to Jon and stood before him. Jon went down on a knee and looked him in his eyes, needing to know if what he suspected was true. Grey Wind bent his head, licked Jon’s hand and looked back up at him. Jon smiled sadly ruffled his fur and Grey Worm loped off with Ghost and Nymeria.

Drogon descended and walked the length of the Dragon Pit, sniffing out his mother’s and brother’s ashes. He lit Rheagar afire, stepped to Jon’s side and Jon had laid a hand on his nose and thanked him. Drogon’s eyes had closed for a moment and then he flew back up into the night.

Jon, Tormund and Greyworm had walked the long road back to the Red Keep.

Jaime and Brienne sat and listened to Tyrion’s retelling. They could see the grief in his eyes. He had lost his Queen.

“I’m so sorry, Tyrion. I should have been there.”, Jaime said. “I should have been fighting alongside him. Maybe I could have made a difference.”

“You were here, doing what you needed to do.”, Tyrion said with sadness. “We all had a part to play. You sacrificed as much or more than anyone.” He stood up from the bed and paced the room.

“Things are...precarious right now. Bronn is in charge of the Quee...Kingsguard and he has promised to restore some order to the keep at least. We are safe for now. But succession is in question. It should have been Queen Daenerys’s throne but with her death...”, Tyrion paused to compose himself. “...we are vulnerable. We need to declare for the crown and make it official. For now. There needs to be a monarch on the Iron Throne or all hells will break loose. We need to be sure Euron is dead and the Golden Company will expect payment. What’s left of them, anyway. I’ll take care of things until...until you’re well enough to...take over.”

“Take over? You mean take the crown myself? Tyrion, you know I don’t want it. I never have!”

“Nor do I. But you are the official next of kin. You’re going to have to decide what you want to do.” Jaime looked stunned. “I know, it’s a lot to process right now.”

“The throne is Jon’s.”, Jaime said calmly. Tyrion looked at them both questioningly and then nodded.

“Aha. I see that someone had filled you in. I had a hard time believing it when I heard it. Seems old Ned knew how to keep a secret. I mean to speak to Jon about this as soon as can be arranged, but I can’t imagine him wanting the throne either.”, he smiled at Jaime and placed his hand on Jaime’s arm. “I don’t know what the hell, or who, brought you back to us, but I’m grateful they did. I couldn’t bare losing everyone.”

Jaime placed his hand over Tyrion’s. “Thank you, brother.”

Tyrion walked to the door. “Good gods, there was a time EVERYONE wanted the throne and now we can’t give it away! Father would be very disappointed with us.”, he flashed them both a sad smile and closed the door behind him.

******************

Jaime slept for most of the day, but not before Brienne washed his wound and dressed him in a clean tunic. They didn’t speak. She thought he might need some time to digest everything he had just heard and it seemed to be true. He lay quietly watching her attend to him but his fatigue took over and he quickly fell back into sleep.

Jaime had left King’s Landing in a hurry and his room still held all his old clothes and things. It was a soldier’s room, minimal in it’s decor. The walls decorated in shields and weapons. Brienne, of course, had been in his council room before, when Jaime had given her Oathkeeper, but his bedroom was more intimate. She walked the room, running her hands over his books and few trinkets that adorned the bookshelf. She wondered if Cersei had spent a great deal of time here.

Brienne sat down at his writing desk and pulled out a piece of paper, quill and ink and began composing a letter to her father. She needed him to know she was safe and that the war had passed. She felt immense relief that it had never reached him and asked about his health. She twirled the quill in her hand, wondering if she dare speak of Jaime. The sun’s light caught the ring on her hand and she smiled. She supposed she should tell Jaime she had found it. She pressed it to her lips and felt the warm metal. She bent to her letter.

_ ‘Through all this madness, I have met someone, father. I believe him to be a kind and brave man, a man of honour, and I believe he loves me as I love him. I hope that you have a chance to meet him now that the war is behind us. I will write again soon. Your loving daughter, Brienne’ _

“Brienne.”, she looked up at the sound of Jaime’s sleepy voice. “Lay with me?”

Brienne blushed but she needed no further invitation. She curled the letter and stowed it away with the thought that she would give it to the Maester the next time he came to examine Jaime. She walked to the bed and removed her boots and sword belt and lay down on the bed with him, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his shoulder. He wound his stump around her back and pulled her close.

“I love the way you smell.”, he whispered. “All leather and metal.”

“You’d not rather me smell like rose water and perfume?”

“Never. It wouldn’t be you.”

She reached up and held his face, her thumb stroking his beard. “Are you ok?”

He held her gaze and she could see the tumult of emotions behind his eyes. “I don’t know. I think I will be. Something in me always knew this would have to be the end of it. Not that it’s easy to accept, but...I feel grief and freedom all at once. It’s an odd feeling.”

“I suppose it would be.”

“I don’t grieve the Cersei you knew. I grieve for the young girl she once was. She is long gone though. I suppose I have been grieving for her for some time already.”

He turned to look at Brienne. “And how are you, my Lady?”, he smiled softly. “I am...so sorry for what you had to endure. I can’t imagine the grief at losing you. I never should have left without…”

“Shhh. No. You did what you thought was best. Who knows if anything would have changed? Who knows if I could have stopped her? I certainly couldn’t have fought the Mountain, although I would have loved to try!”

He burst out laughing at that. “And I’m sure you could have given him a fair fight. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“There’s plenty I can’t do. I couldn’t bring you back.” 

“Maybe you did.” 

She smiled at that and pulled herself up on her elbow, tugging the ring off her finger.

“Jaime, I, uh, I found this.” She held the ring up and the light caught it again. His face changed from sleepy to fully alert. He took the ring from her and examined it. “Maybe I shouldn’t have taken it but...it was all that I thought I would...have from you.”

He smiled shyly at her and looked down at the ring again, rolling it between his thumb and index finger.

“Sun, moon and stars.” He rubbed the engravings and then looked up into her face. “It’s yours. Of course it’s yours. Whose else would it be? This wasn’t exactly how I had it planned in my head, though.”

Brienne’s heart was thudding again. “And...how did you have it planned in your head?”

“Well…”, he lay back down on his pillow and Brienne lay her head on his chest. “...I imagined us back in Winterfell, of all the miserable, gods forsaken places in the world.”, he laughed. “In the Godswood. Under the tree.”

Brienne smiled as she looked out the window and imagined the tree where she had first told him how she felt. Where she had first kissed him. It had been bold and impetuous but at the time, they were facing a war that they knew they could very well not come out of alive.

“And I would tell you that you mean everything to me. And that my life has been utterly changed the day I met you. Standing over me in that cage, looking so stubborn and fierce and proud. Secretly I marveled at you. How would I have ever known that I’d finally met my match? I would tell you all that, and how you have brought back honour and nobility to my life. And that I couldn’t imagine going on without you at my side. That’s what I imagined saying...or something like that.”, he chuckled.

Brienne felt her throat choke with emotion. Her heart was once again beating out of her chest. It was a moment she never thought she’d ever see. She lifted herself again so she could look at Jaime. His face was so full of love that it took her breath.

“And if you would have said all that, I would have replied that you have had my heart since the moment you trusted me enough to show me your true self. A worthy and honourable knight. I died every time I had to leave you and I would never want to be parted again. I think I have been waiting for you all this time, although I expected nothing. But you have given me your trust and a love that I could have never hoped for. You have my whole heart, Jaime Lannister. Always.”

He swallowed, his voice thick with emotion.

“And then...I would have asked Lady Brienne of Tarth if she would have this broken down old knight because he would swear to love her all his days.”

Brienne smiled through her tears. “And she would say yes. I am sure of it.”

He held the ring up and slipped it onto her finger.

“I am yours, Brienne. Every part of me.”

“As I am yours.”, she replied.

He grinned and ran a finger down the side of her face, lifted her chin and kissed her softly, deeply. As though it had been a million years since he had last touched her, in her room in Winterfell. Could that have only been yesterday? She sighed against his mouth and his arousal grew. He wanted to taste and feel every inch of her along his broken body. Healing him, restoring him. It was she that brought him back to life, and her alone. In all the ways that mattered.

He tugged at his tunic and she helped him pull it over his head. She removed her own, as well as her breeches, and crawled under the furs with him, fitting her long, muscled body against his. He ran his hands down her back and she sighed again but she stilled him with a kiss.

“We have time. Rest. I’ll stay by your side.” He groaned and buried his face in her hair.

“I love you, Brienne. Only you.”

“And I love you.” 

A moment later they were both soundly asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter brought back some hope! :)
> 
> I know that last chapter was hard to read. It was hard to write as well. It was always my intention to kill Jaime and bring him back, for a couple reasons.
> 
> 1\. Being born at the same moment as Cersei and then dying with her hopefully completed the circle and that he would finally be freed from her, physically and emotionally. I wanted to break that bond and this was the only way I knew how.
> 
> 2\. I honestly think he's going to die in the books/series (Just my opinion) and I needed to face it down and prepare myself! LOL!
> 
> I hope you're all still reading and that this chapter brought a smile back to your faces.   
> I think I have one final chapter to write.
> 
> Jaime and Brienne forever. <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime walked the long hallways of the Red Keep that had once been full of activity. Their footsteps now echoed off the stone walls. They entered Cersei’s former chambers and Brienne stopped in the doorway as Jaime walked alone out into the courtyard where the map of Westeros was painted onto the floor. A thin layer of snow covered it. He remembered that last day, when he and Cersei had argued and he had finally walked out of this room, walked away from Cersei. It felt like a lifetime ago. 
> 
> ********
> 
> The final chapter. I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long. I don't think I wanted to let this go yet!  
> Hope you enjoy. :)

Jaime recovered quickly but Brienne still doted over him, preferring that he rest long after he was able to walk on his own, use the privy or walk the length of the room, which is as far as she would allow. The Maester had been back to check on his wound but when he saw it fully healed, he huffed something about being made to walk the long flights of stairs and that his dinner was in more dire need of his attention than was Ser Jaime. It was then that Jaime insisted he was alright and didn’t need fussing over, although he had secretly enjoyed every moment of it.

One morning when Brienne had left to fetch their morning meal, Jaime pulled out a tall, dusty standing mirror that was tucked away in the corner of his room. He stood in front of it and pulled off his tunic to view his scar fully for the first time in the morning light. The violence of it shocked him. He ran his fingers over the long, angry, red scar from waist to chest. Cersei’s final gift to him. He had found over the last days that she had faded from his mind to a great extent. Not that she was fully gone, but he didn’t feel her constant presence as he once did. He should have been grieving—heavily—but to his surprise, he wasn’t. It was true what he had told Brienne, he felt...lighter. Free. And the thought brought on a small amount of guilt, but that didn’t consume him either. It was as if events had played out exactly as they were meant to. And his “death” was the price he paid for his loyalty to her all these years. And with that he was freed from his sister’s grasp. Perhaps one day he’d even be able to forgive her, and himself. But not yet.

Brienne entered with a tray of fruits, cheese, nuts, warm bread and a tankard of ale. She set it on the table and walked to the mirror where Jaime stood. 

“It’s healing well. Does it still ache?” She ran her hand from his shoulder down his arm and he caught her hand in his.

“A little. Perhaps it always will.” He met her eyes in the mirror. “Brienne how did I … come back? I need to know.”

Brienne paused. “It was Melisandre. And another woman, another red priestess.” 

Jaime nodded thoughtfully and turned to her. “But...why? Why me, when there were men dying all around us?”

“I don’t know, Jaime. She said you were needed. That you still had much to do. I didn’t know what she meant.” Brienne hesitated. “I do know that … I needed you.” There was once a time where she would have never admitted that she needed anything or anyone and this was now the second time she had said it. Did it make her weak, needing him as she did? The admission made her blush and Jaime pulled her into his arms.

“I do have much I want to do. I have many pages to fill with good and noble deeds just to catch up with you.”, he grinned. “And I want you by my side when I do.” He cupped her face in his hand. “I need you too, Brienne.”, he whispered against her lips. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her deeply, growing more insistent. His stubble gently scraped her chin and she felt a growing warmth in her limbs as she pressed her hands against his bare back. She had missed him too.

“But..our meal…”, Brienne managed to say between kisses. 

“It can wait.” Jaime started to unlace the front of her tunic. 

“Jaime, I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“Is that it? Is that why you’ve kept yourself from me? I won’t fall to pieces, Brienne.” His breath on her face, his whispers, was cracking her resolve. “Trust me.” 

He nuzzled her ear, her neck. He pulled her close and ran his hand down her back and over her breeches, pulling her thighs against his, and she felt him pressed against her, his need for her apparent. 

“Gods, Jaime.”, she breathed. “You know I trust you. I’ll be gentle.”

“M’lady, you can be as gentle or as ungentle as you like. Just lay with me.”

He pulled her down onto the bed and clumsily undressed her with one hand, gazing at her as she gazed back up at him. In that moment, he thought himself the luckiest man in Westeros. He bent to her, sending kisses down her face to her neck to the spot where the bear had left his mark. He traveled down from there, taking her breast in his mouth, making Brienne gasp. He intended to travel further on but Brienne stopped him and gently pushed him off her to lay him on the bed. 

“Let me, Jaime.” He grinned up at her. 

She bent to kiss him, this time her hand moved down his body, running over his chest, over the scar. It sent tingles up and down his torso, as if her hands alone were healing him. She floated lower, brushing her hand over the hairs between his thighs and his breath caught. When she grasped him in her strong hands, he groaned and closed his eyes, pulling her head down to his once more, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, tasting, consuming, needing to know every part of her. 

Breaking the bond their lips made, Brienne carefully pulled her leg over Jaime’s torso, hovering just above him, not daring to put any weight on him. With her hand, she carefully guided him into her, breath escaping their lips. With the greatest care, she started moving above him, her strong legs taking all the weight as their bodies moved together in rhythm, their eyes locked on each other. There had been too many nights of withheld passion, when they had longed to feel the deepest parts of each other, but Brienne’s resolve to let him heal had won. Now, they fully gave themselves up to the sensations coursing through them.

____________________

It was then that Jaime and Brienne would start to venture from his rooms and roam the Red Keep together. So many had died in the siege of King’s Landing that much of it remained quiet and empty. Tyrion reported back to them that after an extensive search, no one had been able to locate the Mountain after he had carried Cersei away. Qyburn was also missing, and they guessed that they had fled together or died in the raid. However, no one wanted to assume that until their bodies had been found, and so the search continued. 

Tyrion had also heard from Jon that Sansa and most of her people had made it safely back to Winterfell. A raven from Arya reported that Winterfell had suffered a great loss, both in people and structure, but rebuilding was already underway. It filled Brienne with relief to hear both Stark sisters were unharmed. She needed to get back to them now that King’s Landing was safe from further threat. 

Brienne and Jaime walked the long hallways of the Red Keep that had once been full of activity. Their footsteps now echoed off the stone walls. They entered Cersei’s former chambers and Brienne stopped in the doorway as Jaime walked alone out into the courtyard where the map of Westeros was painted onto the floor. A thin layer of snow covered it. He remembered that last day, when he and Cersei had argued and he had finally walked out of this room, walked away from Cersei. It felt like a lifetime ago. He looked back at Brienne, whose face revealed her worry for him, wondering at the emotions he must be feeling. He smiled at her reassuringly, walked back to take her hand in his, plant a light kiss on her lips and led her across the courtyard and through the back entrance to the throne room. 

It was empty, lit by the sunlight coming through the high windows, throwing beams of light onto the floor. Brienne’s heart quickened and the memories flooded through her as she watched Jaime walk past the Iron Throne and to the spot where he last remembered standing. He knelt down and ran his hand along the stone floor. Someone had cleaned the blood but he could still see traces where it had leaked into the crevices. Was it his blood or Cersei’s? He didn’t know. Most likely both, mingled together now, forever etched into history. They had been born together and died together. He would write that into the Book of Brothers. As his sister, he owed her that. She was a part of his story.

He stood and held out his hand to Brienne. She took it and their footsteps echoed off the walls as they walked the length of the room, opened the great doors, leaving them standing open as they entered the outer yard. 

The city below is where the activity lay. After Jon had gathered the ashes of Dany and her dragons and taken them back to Dragonstone, Jon had enlisted the help of the Lannister armies, along with his own and Dany’s, to clean up the city. He had tried to pay the Golden Company for their assistance but they had only wanted to be paid for their time and had immediately sailed for Essos. 

The cold air was filled with smoke and Jaime and Brienne saw massive fires beyond the city gates where the bodies of the wights had been piled and set alight. It would be an enormous task to sort through the bodies of the city residents and have their families claim them. The cold air did help in slowing down their decomposition, but it had been decided that after three days, any body not claimed would be taken beyond the city and burned in a ceremony led by Septons. 

It was a horrific sight but Jaime had insisted they walk down into the streets and assist until he became too tired and weak to lift another body. The people of King’s Landing were struck speechless upon seeing Jaime Lannister, the Great Golden Lion, their new monarch, lifting bodies into wagons as best he could with Brienne’s help. When some had the courage to speak up, he only replied that down in those streets, with ruin and death and disaster all around them, they were all equal for the fact alone that they were amoungst the living.

___________________

“Thought I might find you here.”

Jaime found Tyrion, alone in the chambers of the King’s Hand, looking out onto the city below, rooms he had once inhabited when their father had made him acting Hand of the King to Joffrey. Tyrion had always questioned where he fit into his family and into the world as a whole. His search, and his flight from it, had driven him throughout his life, taking him to far away lands...north to the wall, east to the dusty lands of Essos, but he always seemed to end up here. At the side of kings and queens. If Tyrion didn’t realize it, Jaime did. Tyrion had found his place.

“Guilty as charged.” Tyrion turned at the sound of Jaime’s voice. 

“So...I’m assuming Jon is taking you on as Hand? If you can convince him to take the crown, that is?”

Tyrion shrugged. “Fear not, brother, it’s already in hand.” Tyrion smirked at his pun. “Of course, he balked at first, but I think he already knew what he would do, it just took a little… encouragement on my part.” 

“Of that I have no doubt.”

“Do you think...father would have finally been proud of me?”, Tyrion smiled at Jaime ruefully. Although Tyrion tried for lighthearted, Jaime could still hear a note of pain in his voice. He wondered if Tyrion would ever be able to leave him behind.

“Does it really matter now what father would think of you?”

“You’re right. Probably not.”

Tyrion walked to the table and poured them cups of wine and handed one to Jaime. 

“He would have been proud of you, though. Valiant one-handed war hero…”

“Hmmmm, let me see. Traitor to our family, aligned with our northern enemies, saved the dragon queen from the battlefield, gave up the crown up to a Targaryen…”

“Did  _ you _ ever care...what he thought of you?”

“Of course I did. But I learned long ago that I could never live up to what he wanted of me.”

“Alright...so we’re both a sorry disappointment. Clearly only Cersei was worthy of our father’s love.”

The room fell silent at the mention of her name.

“Do you hate me?” Tyrion looked up at Jaime hesitantly, his eyes wide with fear and a little sorrow. 

“How could I hate you, brother?”

“I’ve taken more than half our family. Mother, father, sist…”

“You were trying to save my life, you idiot. How could I hate you for that?”

“But I didn’t save your life.”

“Tyrion…if you hadn’t done it, I might have.”

The room fell silent again.

“I couldn’t let you do that. It would haunt you. Believe me.”

Jaime knew what he spoke of and his throat suddenly felt thick with emotion. He nodded and drank his wine, hoping to clear it so he could speak again.

“As soon as Jon is crowned, we, Brienne and I, hope to travel back to Winterfell. I have no desire to stay here.”

Tyrion nodded and grinned up at him.

“She’s quite something, brother. ”

Jaime couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his face. 

“That she is. Thank you...Tyrion.”

Tyrion walked to where Jaime stood and tipped his glass in Jaime’s direction.

“We’ll be alright, the Lannister brothers.”

“Yes, I believe we will.”

___________________

Jaime and Brienne met with Jon, Tyrion and Bronn the next day in the castle gardens. As Tyrion had suggested, Jon had been more than reluctant to even entertain the thought of taking the crown. The notion was absurd. After all he had been through, all he had lost, his only wish was to quietly return to Winterfell and resume his duties there, his family by his side. And the Starks  _ were _ his family, he insisted. Regardless of his name. He knew no other. 

Over many wine-sodden nights, as both Tyrion and Jon mourned their shared loss, Tyrion had explained that neither of the Lannisters would be claiming the throne, the throne was, by right, Jon’s. The alternative was that Westeros would be left open to tribal lords from Essos or other lands. When the truth of Jon’s lineage came to bare, it would be expected that he take his rightful place as King of Westeros. It would have been a Targaryen throne again had Daenerys lived. As her family, it would be doing her the greatest tribute to have a Targaryen on the throne once again. It could be different, Tyrion explained. “Break the wheel.”, she had said. That had been Dany’s wish. He implored Jon to fulfill it. Jon gazed at Tyrion for a while, contemplating his words.

“Who will follow a bastard from the North?”

“You are a bastard no longer, and it will be proven. The people are hungry for a just and noble ruler. They now know you as the man who won the greatest battle Westeros has ever seen! People will follow you for  _ who _ you are now, not what you used to be, and not what your name is.” Tyrion look a long sip from his wine goblet and stared at Jon across the table. “I gave you some advice once, if I recall. I believe the same applies now. Never forget who you are. Bastard. King of the North. Targaryen. Own it, and it will become your strength.”

There  _ was _ still Jon’s lineage to prove, and for that Tyrion also had a plan. He had asked Sam and Bran to travel to the Citadel to bring their findings to the Grand Maesters and return with proof that Jon was indeed Aegon Targaryen. In the meantime, Jaime was to stay in King’s Landing, holding power until that proof was provided. Then, Jaime and Brienne would be free to do as they wish. What they wished was to travel back to Winterfell for the time being. Jaime was sick of King’s Landing and had no wish to return to Casterley Rock. Much of Winterfell had been reduced to rubble and help was needed to restore it to its rightful state. Jaime felt compelled to do what he could. 

Jaime, Jon and Tyrion walked the snowy gardens as Bronn and Brienne followed behind. Jaime, his arms crossed behind his back, spoke to Jon but turned to smile at Tyrion. 

“So, how did he convince you? My brother has quite the way with words, although, I’m sure there was also a great deal of wine involved.” 

Tyrion answered for him. “He promised not to launch a rebellion, I promised we wouldn’t retaliate. I have a feeling we’ll all get along just fine.” 

Jon raised his eyebrows and smiled. 

“There were a few glasses of wine involved, yes, but...Lord Tyrion reminded me of something I had forgotten.” Jon looked across the gardens to the Red Keep towering above them. “ _ Bloody hells.  _ Regardless of how I feel about titles, they seem to follow me.”

“And those are the best rulers, in my opinion.” Tyrion said. 

“As you know, he has agreed to be my Hand, and Bronn will remain as Commander of the City Watch.”

“Life of a sellsword not to your liking, now that you’ve tasted the finer things?”, Jaime teased.

“I’ve got fuck all else to do. And I like being called Ser.” Bronn squared his shoulders. “I’m in.” 

Jaime smiled and nodded at Bronn. He would miss his foul-mouthed companion.

“This means Casterly Rock is all yours, brother. I find I quite like telling kings and queens what to do.”, Tyrion gave Jon a teasing look. “I’m good at it. And it doesn’t sit as heavy as the crown. I would have been Hand to the Queen...”.

“And now you will serve me with your wisdom. I will need you.” Jon reassured Tyrion. 

Jaime turned to Jon. “You’re sounding Kingly already.”, his eyes teased then became serious. “I am sorry for your loss. I should have been there with you. I didn’t know Daenerys as you did, but she would have made a...formidable...and fair Queen, I think.“

Jon looked up and Jaime could see the grief clearly written in his eyes. He had loved her and lost her. There was no greater torment. Jon slowed their walking to a stop.

“You’ve done enough, Ser Jaime. You … sacrificed yourself for the cause of the North and for all Westeros. There can be no greater service.” 

Jaime looked to Tyrion who looked back at him guiltily and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Tyrion told me.”, Jon admitted. “I promise it will go no further.” 

“And you believed him when he told you?”

Jon looked back ruefully at Tyrion but pulled back his cloak and tugged at the front of his tunic to reveal a deep moon-shaped red scar right above his heart. Jaime looked at it with shock and then understanding. The rumours had been true.

“Something told me you wouldn’t mind him knowing.” Tyrion said apologetically. 

Eager to change the subject, Jon continued their walk. 

“We’ve located your weapons. They have been returned to your rooms.”

“Thank you.”, Jaime said. “My sword is once again yours,  _ my King _ . Let it be a more peaceful rule than the last. I have a feeling it could be.”

“Gods, don’t call me that yet. Nothing is certain until that bloody crown is on my head.”

“I’ll keep it safe for you until then.” Jaime smirked.

“Right.” Jon smiled back. “I would be happy to have your sword once again, Ser Jaime.” Jaime nodded and a lump grew in his throat. Brienne smiled at him, proudly.

“I was going to ask if you would take up Captain of the Kingsguard again...”

Jaime hesitated. It would mean that he would remain in Kings Landing while Brienne returned to Winterfell alone. 

Jon glanced at Tyrion and quickly cleared his throat.

“But what I need most, Ser Jaime, is someone back at Winterfell, someone to defend my family while I’m here at the Capitol. Would you and Lady Brienne do me the honour? Just until things are settled.”

Jaime glanced at Brienne who smiled back at him. It seemed their wish was to be fulfilled without request. 

“I am sworn to protect your sisters, my Lord, of course I will be returning to Winterfell. As soon as Ser Jaime is able to travel.”

“And I would be honoured to be your sword at Winterfell.” 

“Very well then. Thank you. Both. For all you’ve done. I will see you both off when the time comes.”

Tyrion smirked up at his big brother, bowed to Lady Brienne, and followed Jon back through the gardens. Bronn, however, lingered.

“M’lord. Glad to see you back on your feet.” Bronn leaned forward so only Jaime could hear him. “Because, I told you once, after I saved your ass...until I get my castle, only I get to kill you. Unless he’s the one to talk to now.” He stuck a thumb out in Jon’s direction, winked and turned to leave. Jaime called back after him.

“And you have earned it! How do you feel about twins?”

Bronn stopped in his tracks and turned back to Jaime, a grin slowly spreading over his face.

“Have I taught you fucking nothing? Two cunts are always better than one!” Bronn laughed out loud and disappeared from the gardens.

Jaime turned to Brienne and shrugged happily, his eyes seemingly lit from within. She had never seen him so content. She walked into his arms and Jaime pulled her close, kissing her soundly. 

“It seems we are once again traveling companions, m’lady.”

“Seems so.” She smiled, looking into his eyes.

“Something tells me it will be a much more pleasant journey.”

“I promise to shield you from all harm, m’lord.” 

“With your entire body, I hope.” He grinned at her, chuckling at her blushes as he kissed her again while the snow softly fell on a peaceful King’s Landing.

___________________

Sam did indeed return with acknowledgment from the Citadel of Jon’s parentage. Bran, however, had decided to stay. The Grand Maesters had been both skeptical and fascinated with Bran’s knowledge of historic events. After confirming that he had detailed knowledge that only a few of the Maesters possessed, facts only written in books kept under lock and key, they invited him to share his knowledge and even help them update historic documents. One Maester had even declared that they could fill another entire library with what Bran knew.

Jon’s crowning was a simple affair on the steps of the Red Keep in order that all of King’s Landing could participate in the ceremony. Sam, whom Jon had implored to stay on as a member of his small council, joined in the ceremony. He beamed proudly at his old friend as Drogon circled above, to the delight and terror of the crowd below. Many houses in the south stood to declare for King Jon and House Targaryen, including the Lannisters. 

The last Targaryen now sat on the Iron Throne, with Tyrion at his side. The Bastard and the Imp.

___________________

Jaime and Brienne wasted no time in preparing for their journey north. They packed the few belongings he had in a wagon and set out on horseback, accompanied by a large contingent of Lannister men as well as a half of the Northmen that had traveled south to fight in the great war. Many had decided to stay in the Capitol to serve the new King. 

There had been rumours that with the damage done to the Riverlands as the army of the dead had moved south, brigands had taken advantage of undefended townsfolk. Reports had come back of raids and plundering of damaged villages. As they made their way through villages in shambles, Jaime would instruct a handful of his men to stay behind and bring order and justice at Jon’s request. As the days went by, their group grew smaller and smaller. 

Each night they stopped at inns, warming themselves by the fire and eating their dinner in quiet corners of dimly lit rooms. Jaime and Brienne would crawl into their bed at night, holding each other, talking softly of the horrors they had seen that day or dreaming about the future that lay ahead of them. They were grateful for this quiet time that they had together. 

On their last day on the road, they cleared the woods and the northern castle came into view. Smoke still smoldered over the ruins of Winterfell and as with King’s Landing, Winterfell’s residents had worked day and night to clear the grounds around the castle and burn the wights that had fallen. The land around the castle was burnt to ash, no living thing remained between the castle walls and the Wolfswood. A layer of snow covered the scorched earth, doing a poor job at attempting to hide the devastation. 

Their arrival, however, was met with warmth. Although a great deal of the castle had been ruined, the activity inside was alive and well. Sansa had arrived several week before and she and Arya had worked hard in just a little time to set things to rights. Even outside the gates you could hear boisterous voices as rubble and debris was cleared away and hammering and sawing as wooden buildings were once again erected. It was the broken towers of stone that would need much more time and patience.

Sansa, Arya, Varys and Davos met them at the gates in the courtyard. Brienne was relieved to see the two girls well and in good spirits, in spite of the devastation around them. Arya, although happy to see Brienne, stayed silent as Sansa and Davos asked them for news of the battle and Jon’s coronation ceremony. There hadn’t been enough time for the Stark sisters to travel to the Capitol in time, but Jon had promised a visit soon to reassure them that he was well and whole.

Davos and Varys had been in the midst of packing horses, on their way south to serve King Jon. They said their goodbyes and Sansa took Brienne’s arm as they strode across the courtyard. Arya hung back. 

“Welcome back, Ser Jaime.”, she said directly. 

“Thank you, Lady Arya.”, Jaime said, surprised, while he unpacked the bags from the horses' saddles.

“Just Arya. I’m no lady. Well, not like my sister.”

“You are a daughter of a noble lord. That makes you a lady, but...Arya, if you wish. You can call me Jaime.”

“Hmmmm. Not sure about that.”, she said with a hint of a smile. “Thank you. For what you did for my brother. And for bringing Lady Brienne back safely.” Bags unpacked, the stable hands led the horses away and Jaime turned to address Arya. 

“I’m not sure I did much to keep her safe. It was probably more the other way around but...I’m glad she’s back with you too. You’re very welcome, Arya. I hope what’s left of the Lannister house will be better friends with the Starks from now on.”

Arya nodded solemnly and mentally crossed the Kingslayer off her list.

Just then a booming voice bellowed from the door of the Great Hall. 

“Kingslayer!!”

Tormund Giantsbane, fury in his eyes, threw down the bowl of stew in his hands and pulled out his long blade.

“I see you have returned, Kingslayer. Just as well. I was hoping to be the one to shove a sword into your belly!” It was possible that Tormund’s face was redder than his beard.

Brienne and Sansa stopped in their tracks and looked back at Jaime, just as much confused as worried. Brienne’s hand automatically went for her sword.

“Too late on that front.”, Jaime said under his breath. Arya, who had heard him, swung her head around to Jaime curiously. 

“Tell me,” Jaime called out. “...what have I done that you grant me this honour, Giantsbane?”

“You have taken my woman, and for that you will die!”

“I’m not your woman and I never was!” Brienne snapped at Tormund. “Stop this immediately!”

“Ah, but he  _ knew _ I wanted you for my own and he took you anyway. He will fight me and die!”

“Bloody hells.” Jaime shook his head, threw down his bags and pulled out his sword. He knew he was nowhere near fit enough to fight this man, but for Brienne, he would try. Tormund’s face twisted into a sneering smile when he saw Jaime’s sword and started to advance. 

“Then fight me!!” 

Both men turned in surprise at the voice and saw Brienne, Oathkeeper in her hand, ready to do battle. “If you want me, then fight  _ me _ !”

Tormund’s face, red with anger, suddenly lit up. His blue eyes crinkled in happiness as he turned his back on Jaime. 

“ _ You _ want to fight  _ me _ ?” He threw his head back and roared in laughter and delight. “You know that I will beat you, woman, and then you _ will  _ be mine!” 

“I guess we’ll just have to see about that!” 

Jaime threw her a questioning look.  _ Are you crazy? _ Brienne’s eyes narrowed and her jaw jutted out in that stubborn way that Jaime had come to love. She was determined to do this and nothing he could say would stop her. 

Brienne and Tormund started to circle each other, sizing the other up, waiting for an opening to attack. Brienne avoided looking him in the eye. He was grinning and sneering enough that  it threw off her concentration. Instead she watched his feet and the position of his blade. She blocked his first attack but was surprised at incredibly strong he was. He didn’t fight like a soldier, he fought wild, like a man with nothing to lose. 

Brienne quickly realized that she had several advantages. The length of her sword, her training in patience and tactics and she was quicker than he was. She saw an opening and lunged...3 quick swings sent him stepping backwards and her sword glanced off his arm. Tormund looked down at the small amount of blood now seeping through his coat and his eyes gleamed as he turned back to Brienne. He wasn’t about to hold back for her sake. He charged her and she stepped backwards, leading him around a hay cart that hampered the space for his sword arm to swing. His sword got caught in the rungs of the cart and Brienne gave him a solid kick to the midriff that sent him flying backwards. 

Stunned for a second, he grinned again and leapt to his feet. This time, he charged so quickly that Brienne lost ground as she narrowly blocked his blows, the shock of the blades clashing sent ribbons of pain through her hand and into her arm. Her arm quickly tired and she tried backing up but a few swings of his blade came within a finger’s width of her neck. She could hear the other’s gasp and heard Jaime draw his sword. Without looking at him, she yelled, “No! Stay back!”

Jaime watched her struggle to regain her ground and put some distance between herself and Tormund’s blade.  _ Did he actually mean to hurt her? _ , he worried. His arm twitched to join the fight and take down the red-bearded bastard.  _ Wasn’t this all just in jest? _

Brienne and Tormund were once again circling. Brienne shook her arm to shed the pain and her breathing slowed as she regained her composure. She stopped moving, watching the position of Tormund’s body carefully. She closed her eyes for a split second, and then as Tormund once again lunged for her wildly, she deftly blocked his blows, finding the opening he didn’t know he was giving her and she sent his blade flying into the air, coming to rest on the ground at Sansa’s feet. His eyes grew large and Brienne once again sent him flying backwards with one swift kick and was soon on top of him. 

Jaime breathed a sigh of relief.

Tormund lay on the ground, breathing heavily, Oathkeeper at his throat. Their warm breath mingled in the cold air between them. He stared up at Brienne, a look of wild admiration and not a little lust in his eyes.

“Do you finally give up, wildling?” Brienne sneered over him.

“If you killed me now, woman, I’d die a happy man.”, he chuckled. Brienne couldn’t help but smile at that. She offered her hand to him and hauled him to his feet, but before she let go, she pulled him to her and whispered in his ear.

“Has anyone ever told you about Bear Island? Every one of its women are warriors. They would put my skills to shame.” Tormund’s face instantly grew serious. 

“ _ Every _ woman?”

“Every woman.” Brienne raised her eyebrows and Tormund nodded gravely. He picked up his blade, shoved it back into its scabbard and looked back at Jaime, shaking his head.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” He winked at her and marched off muttering something about a ship.

___________________

Jaime and Brienne joined the Starks for the evening meal that night. Sansa and Arya were hungry for details of the battle. They told as much of the events as they could, leaving out the fact that Jaime had been killed and brought back. It seemed too unreal to him to discuss yet. When they spoke of Cersei’s death, both Sansa and Arya looked up at Jaime, watching him closely, but they didn’t say a word. He did his best to keep his features neutral, although speaking of her always brought a small amount of pain and guilt. 

“I can’t say I’m too upset about Daenerys.”, Sansa said bluntly. “Jon will make a far better King than she would have been.” Brienne looked at her, slightly shocked, only because it was unlady like to speak ill of the dead. Arya stayed silent and sipped her soup. Jaime raised an eyebrow. 

“Your brother loved her very much.”, Brienne said quietly.

“Well, of course I feel badly for  _ him _ . I’m just thinking of what’s best for Westeros and the North.”

“As you should, my Lady. However, regardless of who her father was, I believe she would have made a great queen.” Brienne said. “She had the best interests of Westeros at heart. She fought bravely, despite being seriously wounded. I only wish you would have been given a better chance to know her.” 

“I suppose we’ll never know.” Sansa looked directly at Brienne for a moment before lowering her eyes and continuing her dinner. 

Brienne knew where Sansa’s resentment grew from. Jon had taken the knee without discussing it with Sansa and so, Daenerys Targaryen had walked into the North and into Winterfell as Queen and it had rankled Sansa. Brienne could understand that. Despite it, Brienne knew she was again, overstepping her boundaries with Sansa. There was this instinct arising in her, though, one that she didn’t know she even possessed, and one that she didn’t seem to be able to control. She was starting to feel not only like Sansa and Arya’s defender but perhaps a little like a mother would as well. The thought stunned her and she glanced at Jaime, sitting beside her. He met her eyes warmly.

Flustered, Brienne changed the subject. “Tell us of the Eyrie. Did you come across any trouble in your journey?”

Sansa launched into a description of that night, how as soon as they had heard that Winterfell was under attack, she had made the decision to take the tunnels out of the castle and head south to the Eyrie with Davos, Varys and their contingent of the young and old. Davos had secured boats enough to take them down the White Knife to White Harbour. Along the way, they had narrowly escaped the Army of the Dead. Finally aboard their ship, in the cover of darkness and from a distance they had witnessed the Iron Fleet advancing on White Harbour and the dead taking control of their ships. The screams had echoed over the waters and it was all they could do to keep the children’s crying quiet so they wouldn’t be discovered. They landed at Heart’s Home safely and although they had been lucky, they lost some of the weakest to the cold. The rest had been a slow journey, and they had to use carts to transport many of the youngest and oldest, which made the trip all the more cumbersome. By the time they had arrived, the Eyrie had heard reports that the dead had arrived in Kings Landing and the next day that they had been defeated. They stayed for a week to rest and recuperate and had then headed back to Winterfell. Sansa was more than happy to be home at last. 

“And what of the Hound?” All eyes turned to Arya. She had laid down her utensils with her hands in her lap listening to Sansa’s story, not for the first time. It was clear she had been waiting to ask the question. “No one has said anything of him.”

Brienne and Jaime looked to one another and Jaime cleared his throat. 

“He fought very bravely as well, Arya, but he was killed by a Walker at the Dragon Pit, defending your brother. Or so Jon told us. I’m sorry. I heard he was your friend.”

Arya’s face never betrayed her thoughts. Brienne looked at her kindly and with some pity. She knew of their bond as she had witnessed it firsthand. Arya avoided her eyes, merely nodded and resumed eating. 

It would be some time later that news would reach Jaime from Casterly Rock. His aunt reported that bodies had been found in the lower vaults. In one chamber, a faceless man, and in a lower chamber, the burnt body of another. From the remains, it looked to be a very large man. Not knowing their identities, they had been disposed of immediately, however, with those remains was an untouched, long, wooden box. It held a set of bones, and the clothes that accompanied them made it clear who it was. Cersei had been found and had now been buried in the vaults with her father and mother. 

Weeks later, Arya would return from a visit to see her brother and would cross another name off her list.

___________________

Jaime’s room on the upper floor of the First Keep, had been mostly destroyed by the fire. Brienne’s room, on a lower floor, was still intact, but everything smelled of smoke and a fine layer of dirt and ash coated everything. On their arrival, a few of the kitchen maids had swept and cleaned the ash away, and made up the beds with clean sheets in two available rooms.  Jaime and Brienne settled into Brienne’s. It had seemed like a lifetime ago that they had last been there. 

Despite the devastation of Winterfell, what had survived, surprisingly, was the great Weirwood tree and much of the Godswood, although no one knew how. The guest house, the armoury, all the buildings surrounding it had burned to the ground but the whole of the Godswood remained intact. Only a  few of the trees on the perimeter had succumbed to fire. The Old Gods would not be defeated.

Jaime, as best he could, joined the men who were working to rebuild Winterfell. He quickly had a serviceable hook made for his right arm, and it made the job of lifting and carrying tools a bit easier. Brienne helped where she could as well, and some days she worked alongside Jaime, helping him where he needed it, but she spent much of her time with Sansa in her duties as Warden of the North.

It wasn’t long after Jon had been crowned that he had sent official notice he intended to transfer their father’s title to Sansa, and she had accepted it gladly. She already did many of the duties as Lady of Winterfell, so the title only made it official. Her first duty was to write to all the Northern Lords as they returned to their homes to access the damage. Reports came flooding back of devastation and carnage. Homes and villages had been reduced to rubble, crops were either frozen or burned. Townsfolk had disappeared, likely dying at the hands of the dead army and had joined the walk south. The North had been weakened, but she was determined to bring it back to its former strength and carry on the legacy of her father. And she knew, of course, she would have the full support of the newly crowned King.

Jon had asked Tormund if the freefolk would remain at Winterfell to see it rebuilt and then they would be freed of their oath to find homes where they desired. Many expressed their desire to head back north now that the threat had passed, but there were some that said they would seek warmer lands south. 

It wasn’t long after they were back that a raven arrived from King’s Landing. It had been sent from Tarth and passed along to Winterfell. Brienne knew instantly from the handwriting that the letter wasn’t from her father. It was from the current Master at Arms, Ser Avery, a knight of house Errol of the Stormlands. Ser Avery had become a close companion to Lord Selwyn after Ser Goodwin had died. He kindly informed her that her father, Lord Selwyn Tarth, had passed in his sleep shortly after hearing from Brienne. He had received the letter she had written after the war. Perhaps he had been waiting to hear she was alive and well, to hear that she was happy. He had died that very night, knowing that the war was over. He had always hoped that his last surviving heir would do her duty to her home and her people. She was the last surviving Tarth, afterall, but he had finally come to accept her need to live the life of a knight. However, fearing Tarth would be left vulnerable to raiding armies from Essos or even the Golden Company, should one rich enough want to claim their island for their own, Lord Selwyn had already arranged with the houses of the Stormlands for their protection and support. Tarth was safe for now. If Brienne should decide not to claim her home, the island would be, regretfully, handed over to the supporting houses.

At the end of the letter, Ser Avery had added that he didn’t expect her to return immediately. But that, if she wished it, he would stand in as Steward and she could instruct him when she had decided where her future lay. 

Jaime watched her face as she read it aloud to him. She looked up and he could see the sorrow and fear. 

“I always knew the day would come. I had hoped I had more time.”

“Brienne, do you need to go?”

Brienne’s face was still but her chest rising and falling rapidly betrayed the turmoil beneath. She looked away from him and he could see her trying to work out what to think, what to feel. What to do. 

“If I go, I might never come back.” 

Jaime paled at that. He took her hands in his and looked into her blue eyes. 

“I know what it feels like to be beholden to your family. To feel the pull of loyalty and legacy. Brienne, I will do what you want me to do. I will go with you if you want me to. I will stay if you prefer to go alone, I just don’t want to lose you.”

“And what of your family? Your legacy?”

“I might be heir to Casterly Rock but there are many Lannisters more than willing to hold our lands. Lannisters much more capable than I am.”

Brienne looked down at their hands. 

“My father saw to it that Tarth was protected. I have some time.”

Jaime was silent for a moment, but nodded and looked into her eyes. She had grown pale but she didn’t weep. That came later that night as they lay in bed and the darkness enveloped them. He held her as the tears came. 

“I feel like I failed him. I couldn’t be the daughter he wanted.”

“No, perhaps not.”, Jaime whispered, “But you are so much more than what he wanted. You are a knight. And if he had ever seen you fight, damned if he wouldn’t have been filled with pride.” Jaime lifted her tear streaked face to look in her eyes. Those eyes that became like the blue of the southern seas when she cried. “Your father should have seen you as a gift. A blessing. You have brought more honour to him and his name than any frilly, frocked daughter could have, being married off like a broodmare to some fancy lord. Songs will be sung about you.”

“Songs! Don’t be silly…”

“Yes, songs! The Mighty Maid of Tarth, or… Brienne the Brave!” Brienne couldn’t help but smile and a tiny laugh escaped her. 

“And who will write these brilliant songs, hmmm?”

“Well. If no one else does, I will.” Jaime grinned. “I admit, I might need some help with the tune.” Brienne smiled up at him and her heart, as much as it was broken, was also so full. Another tear fell and Jaime wiped it away. 

“Brienne the Brave?”

“The very bravest.”, Jaime said with a chuckle. He kissed her forehead and pulled her close as she rested her cheek on his chest. “I don’t know much about being a father, but what I do know is this. As much as you want for your children to follow you and live your dreams for them, what lives deepest in your heart is for them to find their purpose and find peace and happiness in that. I think you had a good father, Brienne, and I think he would have found happiness in your happiness.” 

Brienne heard the note of hurt in his voice and she lifted a hand to touch his cheek. “And I am happy, Jaime. I didn’t know this kind of happiness was real.” 

“As am I, my love. Perhaps for the very first time.”

___________________

Snow fell softly that day on Winterfell, but the sun broke through every so often, reflecting off the flakes and making the very air around them glitter. They all gathered in the Godswood, around the great Weirwood tree … Sansa looking noble and solemn in her furs; Arya, careful to hide the hand she held, Gendry looking down at her with soft eyes; Tyrion standing proudly with King Jon who had returned from King’s Landing to visit his family, Bronn, Davos and Varys accompanying them; along with many of the noble Lords of the North. At his insistence, Jon had not been greeted with fanfare, just the usual happy excitement of seeing a long gone brother returning home. 

Tormund, for all appearances sake, had given up his claim on Brienne, and was there as well, standing beside Tyrion, nervous and uncomfortable at the solemnity of the occasion. 

Jaime, looking every bit a Golden Knight in Lannister red, stood under the Weirwood tree, watching nervously past the small gathering of people to the gate of the Godswood. His feet shifting under him, his palms sweating even in the cold air, his heart beating in erratic rhythms. 

They all gathered there. Waiting.

Brienne, completely lost in the preparations needed, had enlisted the help of Sansa. She had graciously tasked a few of the best seamstresses to create a dress just for Brienne. It was ice-blue with a fitted bodice and opaque skirt that swept to the ground, showing the blue leather leggings and boots she wore underneath. In the bodice was embroidered a pale golden sun and ice-blue moon, and in the skirt was a silver mass of stars that tumbled from the top of the waist down to where they collected at the bottom of the hem. Over her shoulders, she wore a silver-white fur that swept around and under her chin. Around her waist was her sword belt and in its sheath, Oathkeeper at her side. With her bright platinum hair, grown now to curl under her ears and sprinkled with snow, she glowed, and she took Jaime’s breath away when she entered the gate. Davos walked proudly at her side as a Lord of the Stormlands. He had humbly requested the honour of giving her away, so with her arm linked in his, Brienne slowly walked the length of the Godswood, head shyly bowed, towards Jaime. 

Jaime had never imagined a day like this. He had always told himself he never needed it. As Kingsguard he was forbidden to carry on the family name but it’s all his father ever wanted for him, for Jaime to take up his role as the Lannister heir and create a dynasty that would last a thousand years. All  _ he _ ever wanted was Cersei. Perhaps now he was being given the chance that had always eluded him. He wondered what his father would think of Brienne as the mother his dynasty. The thought made him smile with guilty pleasure. 

Brienne walked past the faces of those she had come to love, and who had come to love her. She smiled shyly at them, always self-conscience of any attention paid to her. But as they passed in a blur, she also saw the faces of those that were missing. Podrick, Renly, Lady Catelyn, Sandor, and especially her father and brother Galladon. How she wished they were here now. Brave warrior that she was, she needed their strength right now.

Jaime’s breath caught as she stopped and finally lifted her head to look at him. She was all light and beauty. She was strength and courage. She was stubbornness. She was innocence. And to his complete astonishment, she was his. To him, she was everything.

“Who comes before the Old Gods on this day?”, the Septon asked. 

Davos stepped forward.

“Brienne of House Tarth of the Stormlands comes here to be wed. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods.”, Davos declared. “Who comes to claim her?”

Jaime stepped forward. 

“Jaime of House Lannister, heir to Casterley Rock, comes not to claim her..”, Jaime smiled at Brienne, “... but to be united with her.” Brienne beamed at him. 

“Let it be known that Jaime of House Lannister and Brienne of House Tarth, are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” 

Tormund cleared his throat loudly and Tyrion nudged him to keep quiet. He raised his shoulders and widened his eyes in surprise. 

They repeated the words the Septon solemnly said and with one hand, Jaime placed his red cloak around her shoulders, but to them, in their hearts, they were already one. 

The small gathering cheered and clapped as, grinning, Jaime took her into his arms and kissed her long and softly. Breathlessly, he looked into her eyes and smoothed back her hair, studying every inch of her face, wanting to remember this moment perfectly for the rest of his days. 

“You are a gift of the gods, Lady Brienne.”, he whispered under the cheering of the crowd.

Brienne smiled shyly at him.

“They have another.” 

Jaime looked curiously at her as his eyes followed her hands down to where they rested protectively just above her sword belt. It took him a moment to realize what she had done. His eyes snapped back up to hers. 

“Seven hells...”, Jaime breathed. His heart started beating wildly.  _ A family, a home full of children, noble sons to keep his legacy. A full life!   _

Brienne’s face was a mixture of joy and fear and apprehension but Jaime’s face lit up as though the summer sun had broken through the thickest clouds of winter. He pulled her back into his embrace, his lips betraying him and claiming her in a way that his words had not dared to. 

But they already knew it. She was already his as he was hers. He would always be hers.

________________

Brienne and Jaime would stay in Winterfell, sworn swords to the Starks, to see their ancestral home rebuilt to its former glory and the northern lands rally.

They would stay to watch King Jon slowly bring peace and prosperity to Westeros once again. Jon would take Dragonstone as his home and he would never marry. He would remain the last living Targaryen. 

They would stay to watch another wedding ceremony take place in the Godswood on a snowy winter’s night.

They would stay to watch Brienne bloom and give birth to a strong and beautiful blonde-headed boy they named Duncan. Trained by both his father and mother who lovingly doted on him, he would grow to be tall and strong and brave and the best swordsman in all of Westeros.

Casterly Rock would remain in the protective care of Jaime’s aunt Genna. 

Tarth and Evenfall Hall remained safe under protection of the Stormlands. They would make their way there after the winter snows had melted. 

But for now, until the north was rebuilt and the waters of the White Knife began to flow once again, until the harshest of winters would break, slowly giving up it’s cruel grip on the land...until then, they could wait. 

Spring was coming. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've really enjoyed the process of writing and hearing feedback.  
> I hope you've enjoyed reading it just as much. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you!  
> I've loved every kudo and every comment. It's fed my enthusiasm for these two. <3
> 
> 4 months until Season 8! 
> 
> ********
> 
> I've started a new story called "Goodnight California". Same characters, our beloved J&B, but set in modern times. I'll be posting it soon. :)


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